


The Seafarer and The Soldier

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Series: Land and Sea [5]
Category: Poldark - All Media Types, Return to Treasure Island (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Military, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next part of the series. Ross and Jim are both on deployment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beds Are Burning

**Author's Note:**

> No, you're not seeing things...this is starting again. Please feel free to leave a thousand kudos ;D (I wish, lol)

Camp Bastion shimmered in the Afghan heat. It was everywhere you looked, a hazy curtain that hovered just above the ground under a sky that was so blue it hurt to look at and a sun that bleached everything of colour. The heat was relentless. It made things impossible to grow, and the whole camp was bathed in the thick whitish brown dust that was constantly kicked up by the movement of vehicles.

Ross lay on his cot, stripped to his t-shirt and briefs, and breathed in the hot air of the domed tent. Even with the AC, it never seemed to get below thirty during the day and they had pretty much given up on clothes while they were inside. He sighed, looking at the ring he was holding up from its current position around his neck with the two simple round steel discs, and traced the edges of it with his fingers. It was something he always did while he was thinking, and he had cause to think more than he had on any deployment before.

‘Mate.’ Carter said from his cot opposite. ‘You need to get out of it.’ Like Ross he was down to his briefs but lacking the t-shirt, and his ebon torso was slick with sweat. ‘All this brooding is doing you no fucking good.’

‘He’s right.’ Tracey said from behind her curtain. As the only female in with them, Ross and Carter had rigged up the privacy curtain for her, although to be fair the extreme lack of privacy meant that they all saw each other naked far more than any of them wanted to. There were eight of them that shared the tent, all Captains, and they shared all of their facilities including the open shower block. ‘If you’re that fucking miserable, you should fucking call him.’

‘Maybe.’ Ross was non-committal. Instead he reached for the book lying on his makeshift bedside table and opened it. The picture of Jim was still tucked inside the front cover and he allowed himself a shadow of a smile as he traced the lines of the photograph. Then he turned to the place marked by Jim’s note in the book and started reading.

*************

The sun off the Pacific was blinding. Jim stood on the front bow of the Dragon, sweating already in his tropical whites as he and Preston watched the rib full of Marines approaching the fishing vessel off the port bow. Preston had her binoculars to her eyes, and Jim waited patiently for her report.

‘Looks good.’ she said as she proceeded to describe the situation unfolding in front of them. Jim radioed the information in on the handheld he was carrying. Sellar thanked him and cut communications and they were left alone to watch the inspection.

‘Fuck me, it’s hot.’ Preston said. ‘I’m sweating like a motherfucker.’ Jim snorted a laugh, his eyes still fixed on the rib as it pulled alongside the ship.

‘We’re in the Pacific, Billie.’ he said. ‘It’s bound to be hot.’

‘Yes, thank you Captain Obvious.’ Billie retorted. The heat made her very crabby. She threw him a sideways glance. ‘How are you today?’ Jim smiled but still didn’t take his eyes off the crew of the rib who were now boarding the ship.

‘I’m the same as I was an hour ago, Billie.’ he said mildly. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Okay.’ Preston said. She fell silent, but they had been best friends for too long for Jim not to recognise the signs that indicated she was dying to ask something. And to give her her due, Preston had been extremely restrained for the past week.

‘Ask.’ he said.

‘Ask what?’ she replied, completely failing to hide her intentions.

‘Ask what you want to ask.’ Jim said. He could quite bring himself to say ‘Ask about Ross’ which is what he knew she wanted to do.

‘Well?’ Prestons said and let the question hang in the air between them. ‘Has he?’

‘No.’ Jim said and saw out the corner of his eye a look of concern flash across her face.

‘But...’ she started to say and then stopped herself.

‘I know.’ he replied. ‘I know.’

‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ Preston said. ‘I know this is hard for you.’

‘What?’ Jim asked, unable to hide the bitter note in his voice. ‘The fact that my boyfriend has made no attempt to contact me for a month or the fact that he hasn’t answered me for two weeks.’

‘He’s probably just really busy.’ Preston said.

‘Or he’s avoiding talking to me.’ Jim replied. ‘I think I can guess which one it probably is.

Later when he got to his cabin, Jim did what had become routine and checked his emails. Predictably there was nothing. He didn’t know why he still held out hope. After all, since Ross’ untimely departure from Rose’s cottage, they had hardly communicated at all. It had been Jim who had bitten the bullet and sent the first tentative email a month into their deployment, when he’d thought that he would go crazy from the uncertainty if he didn’t.

It had been a week before he got one back and then it had only contained two words.

_I’m sorry._

So he’d written back. And that had started a series of bizarrely formal emails between them, the tone to polite and so far from the feelings that ran between them, Jim hardly recognised the two people who’d barely been able to keep their hands off each other. It was like he was witnessing someone else’s relationship.

But then they had slowed and then stopped. No explanation.

Jim closed the laptop, then put it away.

**********

Ross wiped the band of sweat from just under his helmet where it was rubbing against his hair and skin. It was blisteringly hot and all the gear and layers of uniform didn’t help. Coming back to Helmand was like revisiting a painful memory. He’d forgotten how god awful the heat and the dust were, how it collected in the creases of your skin and stuck there like paint. His unit was on the way from Camp Bastion to a waypoint about forty clicks south, a convoy of armoured vehicles. The tanks would be sent down in the next trip, but as second in command he was in charge of the logistics for this trip. It had driven him crazy for a good few days deciding which route to take. The terrain they were traversing was tricky at best and downright dangerous at worst.

He looked back from his seat atop the Warthog in the lead. Behind him a procession of twelve armoured vehicles - Warthogs, Wolfhounds and Huskies, all carrying troops and supplies. He had thirty-two soldiers with him, as well as supplies to set up the way station that would provide support to the patrols that were trying to curb the movement of insurgents in and out of the rocky terrain. Holmewood and Carter were further back in the convoy behind him, each commanding their own section. They had been on the road for the better part of a day.

This meant a very long trip with precious little to see along the way and so Ross did the worst thing he could have done and started thinking. It had been three long months since he’d come back. He’d gone to Somerset, literally a week before he’d flown out, to spend the last days the man he’d fallen head over heels in love with had before he had to get on a ship and head out to the other side of the world. It had felt like his heart had been torn out and he hadn’t been able to focus or get back into things the way he had before. Every moment he wasn’t on duty had been spent thinking about Jim and what he might be doing.

They hadn’t left things well either. Their last night together had been wonderful right up until the point that Ross had realised that this was it for eight months. That he was going somewhere where the possibility of not coming back was pretty damn good. And while he’d never been bothered by it before, having someone who loved him in the picture made him edgy and tense. That was partly why he’d bolted the way he had, and then regretted it ever since because he had squandered that last day which he now realised had been so precious. But it had not been enough time to say goodbye. Certainly not enough time to explain how much he loved Jim and how much he was going to miss him. And now here he was, in the dust and the sweat and the heat, daydreaming about going back, going home to someone. Some one that he’d kept at arm’s length for the last three months because it was just too fucking hard to even speak to Jim without getting that choking feeling and the stress of bouncing from up to down was too much to deal with. And while he knew that every time he cut a conversation short, every time Jim told him he loved him and Ross didn’t answer was probably driving a wedge between them, he couldn’t stop himself.

‘Captain, there’s a group of people ahead, about fifty metres, over. We have stopped and are holding position.’ The voice of Collins, the driver of the Husky out in front of them, came through his radio and he immediately became alert. Groups of people on the road was never a good thing.

‘Acknowledged, Blue. Can you give me a description?’ he answered and waited for the reply.

Seven people, sir. Dressed like locals.’

‘Hostiles?’

‘Mixed group, looks like a family. They have kids with them.’ Collins said. Ross knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything, but it was very unusual for insurgents to involve children directly in their frontline fighting. He hesitated. They were on a tight schedule and he couldn’t afford delays. But it was also his call on how to proceed. He knew that if he held up the patrol and got the troops out front to unload and search the group it would cost time and goodwill if nothing was found. On the other hand, he could be pretty sure that a family group was unlikely to pose a threat.

‘Sir.’ Collin’s voice came through, but he didn’t answer. ‘Captain Poldark? I need a decision, sir.’ Ross bit his lower lip and took the jump.

‘Proceed with caution.’ he replied. ‘If anything looks dodgy, hold position.’

‘Sir.’ the acknowledgement came. Ross leaned down and spoke to Smith, the driver of his vehicle.

‘We keep going.’ he said.

‘Yes, sir.’ Smith replied. There was a lurch as the Warthog pulled off, and Ross looked back once more as the convoy got on the move again.

They came to the point where they passed the group of people and Ross heaved a sigh of relief as he saw that Collins’ assessment had been good. And the Husky had already moved on ahead with no reported problems. He completely failed to notice that one of the children was running away from the group and into the rocks.

They hadn’t gone more than a hundred metres past the group when it happened. For Ross, it was like a sequence out of a cartoon. The vehicle in front of them flipped as if it had hit a spring loaded platform, like in a Road runner short, bouncing away to the left. He barely had time to react when he heard the distinctive pop pop noises of live rounds and his training kicked in. He grabbed the radio and ducked down behind the protective grill.

‘All units engage!’ he ordered and then he moved the side of the platform to allow the gunner to take position at the back of the .50 caliber gun, resting his SA80 over the protective grill, and started squeezing off bursts of fire, slow and controlled just like he’d been taught. There was the sound of several more explosions, all behind him and he looked back to see the convoy being picked off, one at a time. There was obviously a string of IEDs along the track, but now they were stuck with no way forward and no way back. He put his head down and continued firing, hoping like hell that down the convoy Holmewood had seen what was happening and called in an air strike.

‘Fuck.’ he said, ‘All units engage at will! It looks like we have to fight our way out of this one...’

But even as he said the words he turned when he heard the distinctive whoosh of an RPG and saw that there was someone in his direct line of sight, the sleek metal tube balanced on one shoulder. The man stood up, and Ross could almost make out his face, his dark eyes as he dropped behind the rock he’d been standing on.

And then it hit.

He knew what rocket propelled grenades did, that they were powered by a chemical reaction that used phosphorus. It was the phosphorus that made them so deadly, burning through the layers of metal armour that protected the vehicles they travelled in. Not to mention that it was travelling at a speed of over two hundred metres per second, with a concussive force that would easily penetrate the side of the vehicle and create a shower of deadly shrapnel that would quite possibly kill everyone in or near it.

All of this came to him in the split second before the missile hit, and the force of it was so great it knocked the Warthog off it’s axis, blowing a hole in the side and instantly killing the three men in the front seat and six others in the rear.

For his part, Ross was knocked flying with the gunner, a flash of intense heat hitting him in the face. He had time to chart his trajectory from the vehicle as he traced a graceful arc, then the ground rushed up to meet him. There was a moment of white hot agony as something in his right leg snapped, and then nothing.

**********

Jim was Officer of the Watch, looking out the bridge window and out onto the sea glass calm of the Pacific Ocean. They were on a detour from the Philippines down to Australia for an official visit with the Australian navy, something everyone aboard was looking forward to because it meant the Dragon would be in port for two weeks, then followed by a month of war games with the Australian navy. They it would be back to the Philippines for the remainder of the month and then a slow sail back through the Indian Ocean, stopping off at Karwar in India and then in Muscat in Oman. The three months since he’d left England had gone surprisingly quickly, and he was very grateful for that. It meant he would get back to Ross that much quicker.

He had missed him very much. It was different being in port and knowing that Ross was on the other side of a phone. The Dragon’s communications systems were excellent, with their own connection to satellite, and the sailors enjoyed both telecommunications and the Internet. Skype was an absolute godsend for most, but the problem was of course that with Ross being in Afghanistan the chances for them to communicate at all had been few and far between. And the few emails they had traded had been small talk - the weather, what they had had for dinner, duties. And in spite of what had happened between them, Jim had always signed off by saying he loved Ross.

Ross hadn’t said it back. Not once in the three months they’d been apart.

Jim had tried to understand. He got that the amount of privacy that Ross had could not compare to the same level that he enjoyed and that Ross might feel constrained by what he put down in his emails. He also knew that being gay in the Army was radically different from being gay in the Navy. In the Service it was simply something you were, with absolutely no stigma attached to it. Jim’s entire crew knew he was gay, and nothing had ever come of it while he was on the Dragon. He certainly wasn’t the only one either, not by a long stretch. But Ross was in a different situation altogether. And while Jim knew that his friends knew about his sexual orientation, he wasn’t sure how much was known by the other people in his regiment. He had an awfully big command, unlike the Dragon whose complement ran only to one hundred and ninety, seventy more than Ross’ company. She had a small crew, and they were like family. He knew everyone aboard really well.

So he was understanding of the fact that Ross was being distant and reserved with him. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. Not only that, but when communications had stopped just a little over a month ago, Jim knew that probably meant Ross was on the move, as his company frequently was, and that worried him. And the only thing that banished the disquieting feeling, albeit temporarily, was work. Up on the bridge he was at his most serene, the sailors around him working in silence for the most part. The route they were taking was one they’d travelled many times before and the weather was fine. He could almost pretend that there was nothing wrong.

That was until Sellar came onto the bridge, with an expression of such calculated neutrality that it made Jim’s blood run cold. He remembered seeing the same expression on Sellar’s face for the first time when his father had died.

Sellar approached and he saluted. Sellar returned the salute but his expression didn’t change. And now, looking at him, Jim knew what was coming, even before Sellar turned to one of the junior Lieutenants.

‘Lieutenant Godfrey, can you please relieve Lieutenant Hawkins.’ he said, then turned his attention to Jim. ‘Lieutenant, a word please.’

‘Yes, sir.’ he replied and followed.

They went below decks to Sellar’s cabin, and he held open the door and ushered Jim inside. Sellar’s cabin was spacious, befitting his status as captain of the ship. Jim didn’t wait before sitting down, knowing it was a breach of protocol but also knowing that today he was in here as Sellar’s’ friend and not as his subordinate. Sellar removed his cap and hung it on the hook on the back of the door as he closed it. He turned to Jim and his whole face had changed. He took a deep breath but Jim beat him to it.

‘Is he dead?’ he asked, wanting to get it out of the way as quickly as possible.

‘No, thank God.’ Sellar replied. ‘But he’s in hospital.’

‘How bad is it?’ Jim asked, digging his nails into his palm. The word ‘No’ hung like a beacon in front of him, but he knew it had to be serious for him to be pulled off watch.

‘He’s got a broken leg and what they described as an undiagnosed head injury.’ Sellar said.

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ Jim said, his voice rising slightly. ‘Could they be any more fucking vague?’

‘It’s the army, Jim. They do things on a need to know basis. They’re not us.’ Sellar said, coming to sit next to him on the sofa built into the wall. He put his hand on Jim’s shoulder and for Jim it was like flashing back fourteen years. ‘They said he’s out of immediate danger, but that you were to be contacted because he’s got you on the list.’ He gave Jim a half smile. ‘He must like you an awful lot.’

‘He told me he loved me before I left.’ Jim said. ‘But I don’t know if he still feels the same.’ He gave Sellar a wan smile. ‘What is it with me and emotionally unavailable men?’

‘You have a thing about trying to fix the world.’ Sellar leaned back and sighed, hand on Jim’s back now. ‘You’ve always tried to be the strongest person for everyone around you, ever since Rob died. And it’s worked. Christ knows your mum wouldn’t have made it through without you.’ He gave Jim a pat on the back. ‘They said they would keep you posted on his condition. They left a number where you can get hold of them.’ He dug a scrap of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Jim.

‘I guess that’s all I can expect for now.’ Jim sighed. The first rush of emotion had drained away and he was suddenly more tired than he’d been in his life. He got up to return to the bridge. ‘Thank you, Mark.’

‘That’s all right.’ Sellar replied. ‘Now go to your cabin and call them and don’t let them off the line until they’ve told you everything. Gorman can cover your watch.’

‘That’s really not necessary.’ Jim tried to protest but Sellar held up his hand.

‘Your boyfriend just got put in the hospital. I’m giving you the same treatment I would extend to anyone else aboard this ship if they were in your shoes. Now bugger off and go make that call.’

************

The number connected him to a switchboard and then through various connections until he got put through to 33 Field Hospital in Camp Bastion. Then he was juggled between the comms centre and the nurses’ station until he finally got to speak to someone. When he did though he felt a lot better. Ross’ doctor was a Captain Sinclair and her voice was calm and no-nonsense. She put him at ease straight away, giving him a run-down of Ross’ injuries.

‘He’s stable.’ she said to Jim, who was almost sick with relief when she said those words. ‘We’re keeping him in an induced coma for forty-eight hours to monitor brain swelling. Then when we wake him up we can be a little more assured in his diagnosis. I am confident though that the prognosis will be good with no serious injuries. He does a have a mid-shaft fracture of the left tibia, and we have already set that. He’ll need a month or two of recovery time.’ There was a pause. ‘I do need to ask whether you will be looking after Captain Poldark. He has you down as an emergency contact and you’re listed as his partner, but I also see you’re on board the HMS Dragon.’ Jim was stumped for a moment. He hadn’t thought of the ramifications of being in that position.

‘I am on deployment at the moment, and will be for the next three months.’ he replied. ‘But I can certainly find out if I can come back if he needs me to be there.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Sinclair said. ‘I take it you two don’t live together.’

‘No, we don’t.’ Jim replied.

‘In that case we can get him transferred to Tedworth House for the first month, and then he should be fine to go back to Bovington and you can catch up with him when you get home.’ Sinclair said. ‘And don’t concern yourself Lieutenant, he’s in good hands.’

‘When will I be able to speak to him?’ Jim asked.

‘Once he’s awake and stable then we’ll get him to contact you. If you give me your email address, I can provide you with daily updates to his condition.’ Sinclair offered and Jim readily agreed, giving her the details. ‘That’s great.’ she said, ‘And it sets my mind at rest knowing someone’s asking after him.’

‘Didn’t you get hold of his parents?’ Jim asked.

‘We tried but they have yet to return our call.’ Sinclair said. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll be in touch.’ There was the strange clicking sound as the satellite call was disconnected. Jim closed his laptop and considered the situation. He had leave accrued by the bundle, he knew that. He never used it much. He’d never had call to. Greg had pushed and pushed for them to take a holiday together, but Greg had wanted so much more than he had been able to give. Jim had suggested compromises and alternatives, until he was out of options, and Greg had turned them all down, so Jim had never taken leave and had significant time stored up.

He got up and grabbed the bottle of water next to his bunk, taking a long drink to wash the taste of sleep out of his mouth. Then he got up and went to retrieve his laptop from the desk. He would usually sit there when he was chatting to his mother, but tonight he took it into his bunk with him, balancing it on the pillow and lying on his stomach like he’d done when he was a teenager. Which was exactly how he felt right at that moment, scared and needing the comfort of someone else. He checked the time, and knew that Rose was probably already up. She had gotten into the habit of rising early when she'd bought the pub.

He opened the laptop and clicked on the Skype icon then dialled his mother’s page. It was quick, the signal on the ship surprisingly strong. It rang on her side for a moment and then her face appeared. She took one look at him and Jim could see she knew. His mother had always been able to read him easily.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked and jim would have smiled at her directness if he'd been able to. Instead he took a deep breath and said the thing he'd been dreading for the last three months.

‘Ross was injured in action yesterday. He’s in the hospital.’

‘Oh God. How bad is it?’ she asked.

‘Broken leg and head injury.’ he replied, ‘He’s being kept in a coma.’ Saying the actual words ripped his heart out as they became real.

‘But he’s alive? Will he be okay?’ she asked.

‘Yeah.’ Jim said. ‘Not that it really helps.’

‘Oh, chicken.’ she said and the sympathetic tone of her voice hit him hard. It made him want to crawl through the computer screen so he could throw himself into her arms like he had when he’d been young and just let her hug the bad things away. ‘I am so sorry.’

‘He’ll be fine.’ he said, trying to convince himself more than anything. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Oh crap.’ Rose said. ‘You know you won’t. You don’t have to pull the strong and silent act with me, James. I’m your mother. And I know how much you love him.’

‘What am I going to do Mom?’ Jim said, his voice sounding quiet and small even to himself. ‘I can’t exactly drop everything and go there.’

‘And I’m sure that’s the last thing he would want you to do too.’ Rose replied. ‘Have you talked to Mark about it?’

‘No. He gave me the news and sent me off watch.’ Jim said. He ran one hand through his hair, letting his forehead rest in his palm as he tried to fight back tears.

‘You don’t need to be strong with me you know.’ Rose said. ‘It’s okay to hurt. And it’s okay to be scared.’ She put her hand to the screen, watching helplessly as her son put his head down, shoulders shaking as he gave in and cried. The only thing she could do was make soothing noises.


	2. No Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from No Suprises by Radiohead

The first sound was a soft electronic beep, repeating every few seconds. Ross couldn’t quite pinpoint its location, other than to say it was in the same room as him. He tried to focus on it, but it seemed to fade in and out. He felt an obstruction his throat and it hurt when he tried to speak. 

‘Captain Poldark?’ the voice was brisk, military and female. ‘Can you hear me?’ He nodded and then felt a cool hand on his face and then a bright light was in his one eye and then the other. ‘He’s responding well. Pupillary dilation is normal.’ There was the sound of another voice, a little further away. ‘We have got a tube down your throat to help you breathe, but we’re going to take it out now, so one nice deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth for me please. Don’t worry if you have shortness of breath for a short time, it’s quite normal and your regular breathing will come back on its own.’ Ross felt the hands come back, holding his head still. He breathed in through his nose as best he could and then exhaled and felt the horrible dragging of the obstruction as it was pulled out of his throat and through his mouth. He coughed, feeling a horrible scratching feeling deep in his throat which burned and made it hard to breathe. He couldn’t quite catch his breath and there was a horrible wheezing sound which he realised with shock was coming from him. 

‘That’s good, just relax.’ This was a second voice, another woman but she spoke with a calmer, deeper tone. Ross felt a hand on his chest, and that simple contact calmed him enough to take another shaky breath and then another. He realised that he was flat on his back. Not only that but there was pain, not only in his throat but in his face, his back, his chest and worst of all in his leg. It took hold of him, and he wanted to scream at the sudden agony. He moved as best he could, trying to get up even though it felt like he was swimming through glue. 

‘Christ, hold him down.’ The calm voice had an edge now, raised and pitchy. ‘Captain Poldark we need you to keep calm.’ Ross felt hands on his shoulders now and on his arms, and he felt confused because it was so hard for him to move so why were the people around him concerned. ‘For God’s sake keep him still…’ There was a crashing noise and then a sudden weight on his chest and a prick in at his elbow and then he felt a strange sense of relaxation stealing over him.

Then the voice faded out and everything went black.

*********

The second time Ross woke up it was dim, the only light a gentle glow down the corridor. The electronic beep was still there, but it was strangely soothing now, a rhythm he could track and focus on. 

His throat felt raw and sore but the obstruction was gone and he was breathing freely. He felt light and not quite there, and when he opened his eyes it took a while for his vision to clear. Ross blinked several times, but eventually he could make out the room he was in, clearly a prefab building with the regulation white walls and ceiling. He couldn’t see to the sides beyond the bed he was in because blue curtains were suspended from the ceiling, separating him from the rest of the room on his side. Opposite there were two other beds he could just make out.

Ross shifted and his body was stiff from lack of use. Frustrated he tried to pull himself up and got nowhere. His head was now swimming and he reached out blindly. His fingers grasped a metal railing at the side of the bed, and he tightened his grip on it, hauling himself up as far as he could. Then he saw the trailing tubes in his hand, leading to an IV on a stand next to his bed and he realised he was in a hospital. Ross stilled and looked around him as best he could. The whole ward was in darkness, but he could just see shapes in the beds opposite him. 

There was a tightness in the left side of his face and Ross reached up, feeling a wide strip of adhesive bandage running down his face from his eyebrow to his jaw. He reached up with the hand that had no tubes and felt around the edges, wincing at the sting. Shocked he, dropped his hand and then tried his best to ascertain what else was wrong with him. His arms seemed fine, but his right leg ached and when he tried to move it, there was a flood of pain. 

‘Fuck.’ he muttered to himself. ‘Fuck.’

A sudden movement at the corner of his vision caught his eye and he looked up to see a young woman, olive t-shirt and camo trousers marking her as army coming towards him rapidly. When she got to Ross, she gently removed his hand from the bed and pressed him back to the pillows. 

‘It’s all right, Captain Poldark.’ She said. ‘You’re in 33 Field Hospital. My name is Lieutenant Keyes. Just relax and we’ll get you sorted in a tick.’ Her voice seemed vaguely familiar and her manner was calming. Ross lay back and watched as she took his pulse and shone her penlight briefly in his eyes. He swallowed, his mouth horribly dry and she noticed, reaching for a white plastic squeeze bottle with a drinking tube. ‘Here. Small sips. We don’t want you to choke.’ Ross did as she instructed, and the water was like heaven on his sore throat. She let him drink a few more sips and the took it away. ‘Better?’ Ross nodded and managed to clear his throat just enough.

‘What happened?’ he asked, and his voice sounded rusty and cracked. 

‘You were in an ambush.’ Keyes said. She was very young, Ross realised, with thick black hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head. Her grey eyes watched him intently. ‘Do you remember anything?’ Ross closed his eyes for a second.

Sound. Screams. Fire. Pain.

‘Not really.’ he replied. ‘How long have I been here?’

‘Almost a week.’ Keyes said. ‘You’ve been kept under sedation to make sure you didn’t move around too much. But Captain Sinclair will be able to explain everything to you. She’ll be here shortly.’ Ross frowned, not understanding until he saw the short wave radio at Keyes’ belt. 

‘I was with others…’ he started to say and the trailed off, panic grabbing at him as his hand went to his chest, frantically feeling for something that was not there. Keyes saw his distress and immediately put her hand on his arm, gently taking his hand away from his chest and laying it at his side. 

‘It’s alright, I have what you’re looking for, Captain.’ Keyes said. ‘It’s right here.’ She half turned to the steel stand next to the bed where she’d replaced the water and then Ross felt the cool of metal in his hand and he tightened his fingers around it instinctively, feeling the dog tags and the ring that felt like his last link to the world he’d left behind. Keyes watched him carefully, and when he looked at her she gave him a reassuring smile. 

‘You were wearing that when you came in and kicked up an almighty fuss when we took it off. We had to keep it off while you were sedated, but you should be fine to put it back on now if it’ll make you feel better.’ she said. Ross wanted to, but his hands had started shaking and he didn’t want her to see that so he simply closed his hand around it.

‘Later.’ he said. ‘You said something about someone coming to see me?’ 

‘She’s already here.’ Another voice said, and this time Ross was certain that this was one of the people from the first time he woke up. The woman coming towards him was dressed the same as her nurse, but her air of authority was clear. She was black and looked like she was in her early forties, not that Ross was a very good judge of age, her short black hair neatly cropped and her dark brown liquid eyes keen and clear. ‘I’m Captain Sinclair, your attending physician. I’m very glad to see you awake and alert Captain Poldark. You had us a little worried for a moment.’ 

‘I’m sorry.’ Ross replied automatically and she frowned. ‘I mean, I’m not sure what happened. I don’t remember very much.’

‘Your company was on its way south when you were ambushed.’ Sinclair said. She looked at Keyes who nodded and walked off. ‘Your vehicle was hit by an RPG and pretty much exploded. You were very lucky you were on the top, or my diagnosis might be very different. The shock of the impact threw you from the vehicle ad you landed about twenty feet clear. Unfortunately you landed rather hard.’ She watched as Ross took in the information. ‘Your right tibia snapped on impact, and you had a fairly nasty open fracture when you came in. That was our primary concern so we operated as soon as feasible. It’s been pinned and plated, but the prognosis is good for the return of full mobility. We’re a little concerned about secondary infection which is why we’ve still got you on antibiotics.’ Here Sinclair gestured to the IV. ‘In addition to that we were unsure of how much head trauma you had sustained. You were hit by a piece of shrapnel that cause a substantial laceration to the left side of your face, which we have also cleaned and stitched up. We decided to err on the side of caution though and kept you in an induced coma for a few days until we could be sure that you had no serious intercranial bleeding or any meningeal swelling, which I am very happy to say you don’t. Thank goodness for Kevlar is what I say.’ She gave Ross a smile, but he couldn’t return it.

‘A coma?’ he managed to get out. Sinclair nodded.

‘Just a precautionary measure. We’ll be taking you in for an MRE later today, just to give you the all clear and then we can start to talk about your long term recovery. We’ll be transferring you back to England for that obviously, 33 simply doesn’t have space to hold onto patients once they are stable enough to travel. Tedworth is closest so we will be transferring you there for two weeks until the consulting physicians are satisfied that you can return to your home, but you’ll obviously still need to visit while you physical and psychological therapy takes place.’

‘Why will I need psychological therapy?’ Ross asked, his suspicions building at a rapid rate. 

‘It’s standard procedure for all soldiers injured under combat conditions.’ Sinclair said soothingly. ‘Nothing to be alarmed about. Now, obviously as you live on base, there will be access to any number of resources should you need them and obviously your current enlisted status will still be valid, although you will be off active duty until Tedworth signs off on your physical and psychological evaluations. So that means you can get plenty of rest and get better as soon as possible.’  
‘But I’ll go to Tedworth first, is that correct?’ Ross asked. 

‘Yes.’ Sinclair replied. ‘I know that the two officers you share with are still at the checkpoint. They did call yesterday to see if they could speak to you.’

‘They’re all right then?’ Ross asked, suddenly torn between an overwhelming sense of relief and guilt that he’d been so concerned with himself he hadn’t even thought to ask about them once he’d realised the ring was missing from around his neck. 

‘Yes, both Captain Carter and Captain Holmewood were uninjured.’ Sinclair said. ‘They are very concerned about you though, as is your partner.’ Ross frowned.

‘My partner?’ he asked, mind momentarily blank.

‘Yes.’ Sinclair said. ‘Lieutenant Hawkins. I’ve been keeping him appraised but I know he will be very relieved to hear you’ve woken up. He’s been putting a brave face on it, but he’s been very worried about you. I’m sure that he will want to speak to you as soon as you feel up to it.’ Ross was silent as he as assaulted by a raging turmoil inside him at the mention of Jim’s name. 

‘No.’ he said, fighting to keep his voice under control. 

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’ Sinclair said. ‘What are you saying no to?’

‘I don’t want to speak to him.’ Ross said. Sinclair’s face registered her surprise, but she immediately covered it up.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘He is your emergency contact. And I should mention that your family is yet to respond to the messages we’ve left. You’ll need someone.’

‘No.’ Ross said, a little more firmly this time. ‘He’s on deployment. Please, I can’t speak to him.’

‘All right.’ Sinclair said. ‘That is entirely your choice, Captain. If you don’t want to speak to him, then we can always arrange for you to email or…’

‘No.’ Ross said. ‘I think it’s best if we don’t have any contact. At least for the time being.’ He avoided Sinclair’s gaze. 

‘Fine.’ she said. ‘In that case there really isn’t much more to tell you. I’ll leave you in Lieutenant Keyes’ capable hands but I’ll be back to check on you later. Try and get some more sleep.’ Ross didn’t reply and she left him alone in the bed, the sound of her boots on the linoleum floor echoing down the ward. 

Ross looked down at the ring in his hand. It was scratched and the surface shine was starting to wear off. He turned it in his fingers and noticed a small dent on one side.

Damaged. Just like him.

Ross reached up, his stiff arms making the movement jerky and put the chain around his neck. Then he lay back and stared at the ceiling.

In her office, Sinclair typed a short email. Then she sent it, her lips pursed in consternation.

*************

Three days later, they took the stitches out of his face. Keyes stood next to his bed, tongue protruding ever so slightly from her full mouth as she concentrated on not pulling the delicate skin too hard. Eventually, she dropped the last piece of thread into the basin, put the forceps and scissors in with it and gave Ross an appraising look.

‘Not bad, if I do say so myself.’ she said and gave him a cheery smile. ‘It makes you look like a pirate.’ Ross forced a smile in the face of her scrutiny.

‘Pity they didn’t need to amputate then.’ he said. ‘That would have completed the look.’ The words and the bitterness in his voice that he couldn’t quite hide shocked the young nurse into silence. Then she flushed bright red and grabbed the basin. 

‘Right, I’ll leave you to it then.’ she said and left as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. Ross watched her go, feeling terrible that he’d obviously upset her badly and also angry as fuck for the fact that she’d said that in the first place and that he’d reacted to badly to it. 

When Sinclair had come round to see him later, Ross had calmed down and wanted to apologise to Keyes for how he had behaved. He was about to ask Sinclair to deliver the apology on his behalf. But even as he opened his mouth to speak, his resolve died and he retreated into himself, finding solace in silence, just like he had when he was a boy.

Ross managed to avoid looking at himself in the mirror for another three days. But finally he took the plunge, waiting until it was late and he could go to the head by himself with the assurance that there would be no-one else around. He braced his crutches against the wall and hopped over to stand at the basin, resolutely staring down and fighting for control of the raging emotions inside him. The he lifted his head and the stark fluorescent lighting showed him a sight that he’d been dreading. 

It was far bigger and more noticeable than he’d realised. Ross leaned forward inspecting it carefully. The scar started at the middle of his left eyebrow tracking down under the line of dark hairs and turning at a sharp angle to run down the left side of his face. It just missed the corner of his eye, and for that he was extremely thankful, and down his cheek, ending in line with the corner of his mouth. It stood out against his skin, a lived purple-red, the tiny dots of the stitching still slightly visible along each side. 

Ross stared at it for what seemed like forever, and then turned away abruptly, hobbling out of the head and back down to the ward. When he finally made it back to his bed, he was exhausted from a combination of physical exertion and the deep gnawing anguish he felt. He was broken and ugly and there was no way in hell Jim would ever take him back, not with this added to the way Ross had treated him. 

He lay there in the dark, biting his lip until it bled to keep from crying.


	3. Basket Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sellar and Preston plot and Carter and Holmewood visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Basket Case by Green Day
> 
> Okay, so this has blown up way more than I ever expected it to, so a HUGE and EPIC thank you to all of you for your support :D The comments and the kudos are fantastic, but more than that I am just so amazed by how many people want to hit Ross. In the face. To me this means I am getting it right. So to all of you who have been kind enough to express feelings of violence or any damn feelings at all thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!
> 
> And as I am a shameless attention whore, here's another chapter. Also just to say that I have been very slow in replying to comments. I do apologise and I will get there so please bear with me :D
> 
> Also, to my wonderful friend and beta Taupefox59 - you are wonderful and I ma very thankful to have you in my life. <3 you!!!!

Jim sat in his chair, looking blankly at his computer screen. Two weeks had passed since he’d received the email from Sinclair, in which she had very kindly but very firmly put him off trying to contact Ross until communication was initiated from his side. And so Jim had waited and waited, almost compulsively checking his emails every time he came off watch. But after the first week, Jim knew what was happening.

Ross didn’t want to speak to him and it was killing him, like a slow toxin in his bloodstream.

Jim didn’t know what to do. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, where he had literally no control over how or when he was able to speak to someone he cared about. It was bad enough when it was time and space that separated them. But now it wasn’t that at all. He had an open line of communication but the person on the other side was the one cutting them off from each other. Sinclair had told him that Ross was awake and functional, that he was talking and breathing and eating well and that she thought he hadn’t suffered any particularly lasting consequences. He was, in actuality, extremely lucky. The only things he would have to show for his experience, physically, would be a couple of pins and a plate in his leg and a scar on his face.

There was a soft knock at the door.

‘Come.’ he called, and it opened to show Preston. Her face was full of concern.

‘Can I come in?’ she asked, and Jim nodded. She came, in dressed in casual clothes like he was. Their watch wasn’t for another eight hours. She came up behind him, leaning down and putting her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘No.’ he replied. With Billie he never pretended. She’d see right through it anyway.

‘Still nothing?’

‘It’s been two weeks. He still doesn’t want to talk to me.’ Jim said. ‘This is all sorts of fucked up.’

‘I know.’ she said, resting her chin on top of her head. ‘So, I thought you probably needed to come and work this shit out for a bit. Come on, let’s go work out for a bit we’re going to hit the gym, give you some mindless exercise and then you need to sleep.’

‘I’m not really in the mood, Billie.’ he said. He met her eyes in the mirror over the desk. ‘I really just want to be by myself for a bit.’

‘Tough shit.’ Preston said, her grey eyes stern. ‘I’m not letting you mope and be depressed as shit in here. Now get your arse up Hawkins and let’s fucking go.’ She glared at him, and Jim finally smiled.

‘You’re a slave driver.’ he said to her.

‘No, I’m just a good friend.’ Preston countered. Jim reached up holding onto her arms and squeezing.

‘Yes, you are.’ he said.

An hour later he was ready to take that back. Preston was relentless in her quest for physical fitness and by the time she relinquished her hold on him and let him go back to his cabin, he was shattered. The physical exhaustion, coupled with a severe lack of sleep and the emotional strain of the past two weeks had really taken its toll. He didn’t even bother changing or showering. Instead he simply fell into his bunk and passed out.

Upstairs, Preston made her way to Sellar’s quarters. She knocked when she got to the door and it was opened by her captain, a worried look on his face.

‘Come in.’ he said and he she entered. He looked her up and down.

‘I got him into the gym with me. He should be out for at least eight hours after that.’ she said.

‘Thank you.’ Sellar replied. ‘I was starting to think we’d have to hit him over the head with something heavy and large.’ He gestured to the sofa and she sat, then he went to the small bar fridge and took out a bottle of water and handed it to her.

‘It’s getting serious. Jim’s tried calling him every day for two weeks and nothing.’ Preston said, cracking the bottle and taking a long drink.

‘I know.’ Sellar said. He sighed heavily. ‘I’ve never seen Jim this distracted. It’s starting to affect his work and that’s the last thing I want.’ He looked at Preston. ‘I’m flying blind here, Billie.’

‘He needs to see him. Even if it’s over, you know Jim. He needs to hear it from the horse’s mouth. He was the same with Greg, hurtling up there to go hash it out with him the minute we got back. The problem is that Ross is in Helmand and if he’s not talking, there’s bugger all Jim can do about it.’

‘Unless…’ Sellar started to say and then shook his head. ‘No, he’d never go for it.’

‘What?’ Preston asked.

‘Jim has about a month and a half of accumulated leave.’ Sellar said. ‘I could probably wrangle him another two weeks to make it up to a couple of months. But it’s getting him to take it that’s the problem.’

‘You leave that to me.’ Preston said. ‘If you can get him off for that amount of time, I will make damn sure he gets on a plane and goes.’

‘Deal.’ Sellar said.

**********

Carter and Holmewood checked in their side arms at the Visitor’s desk and followed the nurse to the ward that Ross was in. He was out of casualty care now, and able to move around for the most part. But they had only just got back from their time at the way point, although they’d both been keeping an eye on him via telephone calls. But they both considered this visit to be way overdue and had made a point of coming as soon as their duties allowed. Holmewood had also retrieved the book Jim had given Ross from his pack, thinking he would want it.

They came down the corridor, and peered into the room at the end. There were ten beds lined up, five to each side. They were occupied with soldiers in various states of recovery, except for one which was empty.

‘Oh.’ The nurse said, ‘He should be in here.’ She looked around and one of the other soldiers, who had both legs in casts, pointed to the door.

‘He made a break for it again.’ he said and she frowned.

‘Damn it.’ she said, ‘He’s probably outside again.’ Carter and Holmewood exchanged glances.

‘If you tell us where, we’ll go get him.’ Carter said and she brightened.

‘Thank you.’ she said. ‘I don’t particularly feel like getting my ears boxed again today. He’s been very difficult to deal with.’ She took them out into the corridor and pointed out a door at the end of the prefab. ‘Try out there.’

They watched her walk away before they spoke.

‘Fuck.’ Carter said.

‘Jesus Christ, what is he doing?’ Holmewood asked, but it was a rhetorical question. They headed to the door, opened and looked out onto the area at the back of the prefab. There was a collection of crates and boxes and at first they didn’t see anything. Then they noticed a tiny contrail of smoke and followed it.

Ross was sitting on a crate, injured leg stretched out in front of him. He was in a t-shirt and sweatpants and they noted how long his hair was and the two weeks work of facial hair that he’d grown. He looked like a civilian. Only the dog tags around his neck, strung with the ring he’d taken to wearing with them when they’d got to Afghanistan, marked him out as army. He was smoking, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and just looking up into the washed out blue of the Afghan sky. He looked around as they came into sight and huffed.

‘Nurse Ratchett send you to find me, did she?’ he asked and they were both taken aback at the open hostility in his voice. They took in the sight of him, both getting a closer look as they approached.

‘Hey, Ross.’ Holmewood said, and he moved towards him, but stopped when he saw Ross visibly stiffen. He settled for going to sit next to him. ‘How are you?’ A surreptitious glance told him not very well. Ross looked pasty under his tan. 

‘I have metal pins holding my leg together and I look like fucking Frankenstein. How are you?’ he countered, his voice flat. He turned to look at him, and Holmewood saw the line of black stitching running down the side of Ross’ face from his left eyebrow to just in line with the corner of his mouth about halfway along his jaw. 

‘Fuck.’ Carter said. ‘What did that?’

‘Shrapnel.’ Ross said, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and blowing out the smoke into the air. ‘Ripped my face open while I was attempting to take flight.’ He gave them both a narrow eyed look. ‘You two just get back?’

‘This morning.’ Homewood said. ‘We came as soon as we could get away. We wanted to come and see for ourselves that you were in one piece. And to give you this. He handed the book to Ross, noticing the moment’s hesitation before he took it. ‘So you’re looking better than the last time we saw you. We were there when they airlifted you out.’ Ross snorted.

’I’m alive if that’s what you mean.’ he said. ‘Which is a lot more than I can say for the people with me, so I suppose I should be grateful.’ He looked at Carter. ‘They won’t tell me how many, but it’s not hard to read between the lines. So?’ Carter looked at Holmewood, who gave the tiniest shake of his head. 

‘Honestly, I don’t know mate.’ Carter said. ‘We haven’t really been de-briefed.’

‘Bullshit.’ Ross said easily. ‘You fucking know.’ There was another look.

‘Eighteen.’ Holmewood finally said, and there was a sharp intake of breath next to him. But when he looked at Ross, his face was still set in that blank expression.

‘And injured?’ he asked. 

‘Not many more than that.’ Carter said, his worried eyes meeting Holmewood’s. ‘Most of them  
died. We were pretty pinned down. I think the only reason we made it out was because we were at the back. The bastards were clever.’

‘And I wasn’t.’ Ross said. He wanted to add I should have fucking known. I should have stopped the convoy and checked. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

‘No mate.’ Holmewood said. ‘It wasn’t your fault they changed tactics. That’s the first time they’ve hit a convoy like that, according to brass.’

‘And anyone would have made the same call as you.’ Carter added. ‘I would have.’

‘But you didn’t.’ Ross said. He took one last drag and then flicked the butt to the ground, where it lay smouldering. ‘I did. And eighteen people are dead because I made the wrong call.’ He got up, taking the book and tucking it into the waistband of his sweats before picking up the crutches that were next to him and using them to move past them to the door, opening it and going inside. 

Carter and Holmewood watched him go with open mouths.

‘Oh Christ.’ Holmewood said. ‘Did we just fuck up royally?’

‘Yeah, we did.’ Carter said. He went over and extinguished the cigarette. 

When they went inside and back to the ward to find him, Ross was back on his bed, head turned to the window. They didn’t go into the ward but went to find the nurse from earlier. She directed them to Captain Sinclair. She was with another nurse, clipboard in hand, but when they introduced themselves she guided them to a small office. It was a tight fit with the desk, and two chairs but they all squeezed in.

‘Well?’ she asked. ‘You know him. What do you think?’ When they didn’t reply, she leaned back in her chair. ‘You can speak freely. Nothing you say will leave this room.’

‘Well, in that case our first impression is what the fuck.’ Carter said and Sinclair gave him a humourless smile.

‘I take it you’re a little shocked.’ she said.

‘It’s not his injuries.’ Holmewood said, ‘We knew about those. But his attitude...’ He trailed off and Sinclair nodded. 

‘I know.’ she said. ‘He’s shutting down. There have been some days we have got nothing out of him at all. I have recommended a stay at Tedworth when he gets back. Physically he would be quite capable of moving around and looking after himself, but I want someone to keep an eye on him for a while.’ She gave them both a penetrating look. ‘Are you aware that he’s been refusing calls from his partner?’ She saw the looks of shock on their faces. ‘Obviously not. Has Lieutenant Hawkins contacted either of you?’

‘We’ve been down in Echo since it happened.’ Carter said. ‘This is literally the first day that we are back.’ 

‘And we had no idea it was this bad.’ Holmewood said. ‘I mean, we’ve been in hairy situations before and lost men before. This is nothing new.’ 

‘Yes, but according to his records, this is Captain Poldark’s first serious injury.’ Sinclair said. ‘That’s almost ridiculous odds in four deployments. And nobody can tell how someone will react until they are in that situation.’

‘So what now?’ Carter asked. 

‘Well, like I said, Captain Poldark will be transferred home by the end of next week in all likelihood and I am recommending a stay in Tedworth for two weeks. I know that you all live together but obviously you won’t be home for some time, am I correct?’

‘Yes.’ Homewood said. ‘We are still here for another four months.’

‘Well, in that case may I suggest you get in contact with Lieutenant Hawkins if possible and advise him of the situation.’ Sinclair said. ‘I am in no way qualified as a psychologist but I have been a medic long enough to recognise PTSD when I see it. And it won’t do him any good to be alone. I am assuming there will be an investigation.’

‘Isn’t there always?’ Carter said, a bitter tone underlying his words.

‘Well, I don’t know how long that will take, but they’re going to want an evaluation.’ she said. ‘You know how it goes.’

‘Yeah, we know.’ Carter said. ‘Some poxy overqualified Oxbridge twat poking around in his head. And if the bastard doesn’t like what he finds, then it’s curtains.’ 

‘I think we need to call Jim.’ Holmewood said to him.

‘I agree.’ Carter said, a concerned look on his face.

***********

In the ward, Ross looked down at the book in his hands, which were shaking as he opened the front cover and looked at the picture of Jim. He waited until the pain in his heart grew too much to bear and then slammed the book closed and put it on the stand next to his bed.


	4. Say Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross spends his first week at Tedworth and Jim makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Say Something by A Great Big World

The trip back to Bovington felt like it was taking forever. Ross stared out the wind of the minibus that held him and four other soldiers who had all returned in various states of injury, as well as three others who were being transferred to various position. He didn’t speak to any of them. Tedworth was about an hour and a half away from Bovington, and once he was allowed to go home Ross would have to make the commute a few times a week, but at the beginning he would be staying there to alleviate having to move around too much. 

The minibus finally pulled into the drive and Ross was startled out of his thoughts as he realised he’d completely lost track of time. He loked out the window at the manicured gardens and the saw the huge stone building come into view. Bizarrely his first thought was how horrified his parents would be at the thought of a stately home being turned into a rehabilitation home for soldiers. 

The vehicle stopped at a side door into the massive building, and there were several people waiting there to meet them. Ross took a deep breath, put on his game face and got ready to go inside. The  
interior was air-conditioned and modernised. Orderlies and other staff in working rig milled around and they were directed to follow one of the staff members that had been waiting for them. 

Ross was taken down a wing on the ground floor, obviously a concession to his medical condition, the orderly with him carrying his bag. The room he was shown to looked like a mid-range hotel room, non-descript and inoffensive, with an en-suite bathroom and the normal amenities. 

‘The duty physician will be here soon to have a chat.’ he said. ‘She’ll want to assess you and set you up with your routine as soon as possible.’ Ross nodded and the man left him alone to unpack and settle in. Ross moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down and unzipping his bag. He’d been given his kit back when he’d left and he took a while to take the items out one by one, and lay them on the bed. The last thing was the book from the side pocket of his bag. Ross stroked the cover, feeling the rough fabric under his fingers, before opening it and looking at the photo. He stared at Jim’s face, every line burnt into his memory, then shut it and put it on the bedside table, the same place it had occupied for the last week. Finally he reached for the chain around his neck, pulling it out from under his t-shirt and tracing the ring with his fingertips, feeling every scratch. 

There was a knock at the door and he looked up as a tall thin man with a friendly hawkish face looked in. He came around the door, also dressed in working rig. The flashes on his shoulder marked him as a Major and Ross straightened up to salute. He returned it and then held out his hand, grey eyes giving Ross an appraising glance. 

‘Captain Poldark, I’m Major Donovan. I’m going to be your primary while you’re here at Tedworth.’ He shook Ross’ hand, his grip firm. 

‘Sir.’ Ross replied, and Donovan gesture for him to sit down again.

‘We need to get you assessed and then your regime will start tomorrow.’ he said. ‘I put you with Lieutenant Ari Costas for your physio and you’ve been assigned to Major Warleggan for your psychological treatment. He’s unfortunately not here to introduce himself to you today, but you’ll get to meet him tomorrow when you go for your first session.’ 

‘And the rest of my time?’ Ross asked.

‘There are plenty of activities here at Tedworth, group sessions you can join.’ Donovan smiled at him. ‘I’m sure you’re used to keeping busy and a busy mind means that you’t feel as aimless as you might in hospital with nothing to do. We also have a lounge and a library and you will have meals in the canteen downstairs. I hope you’ll talk to some of our other inmates before you decide to dig a tunnel out.’ He laughed at his own joke. Ross put on the bright smile he’d used to use when his parents dragged him to one of their social events.

‘Of course.’ he replied. ‘And today?’

‘Today you can settle in. I have a report from Captain Sinclair on your condition and she is happy with your progress. I have had a chat with Lieutenant Costas so she will expect you tomorrow morning. We start pretty early around here, so we’ll soon have you back in the swing of things.’ Donovan said. With that he gave Ross a cheery goodbye and left the room.

Ross let his shoulders sag as so as the door closed behind him. He knew Donovan was only doing his job, but he also knew he would find the man’s relentless cheerfulness grating after a while. He desperately hoped that all the staff weren’t like that. He was also feeling very nervous about the upcoming psychological sessions. It was SOP for all soldiers who’d been injured to undergo such evaluations, but one wrong move would mean he would be discharged on psychological grounds, a stigma that nobody ever recovered from.

He was going to have to be very careful about how he played that one.

***********

The sight of Carter’s face on the screen as the call connected made Jim incredibly anxious. He had gotten used to judging what was happening with Ross by the expression he was greeted with whenever Carter contacted him. It was a week after he and Holmewood had gotten back and they’d spoken five times since then, although it had been tricky with the time difference and Jim’s watches. But it was a hell of a lot more than Jim had been getting so he was incredibly grateful for that.

‘Hi.’ Carter said. He could see, even over the dodgy connection, that Jim looked exhausted. His blue-green eyes lacked their characteristic sparkle and he had an unhealthy pallor in spite of the dark tan. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Holding on.’ Jim replied, giving Carter a half-smile that didn’t convince at all. ‘You have news?’

‘He got back all right.’ Carter said. ‘Sinclair email you?’

‘She did.’ Jim said. ‘She’s also passed my email to Major Donovan and said she’d going to ask him to keep me updated. Did you speak to him before he left?’

‘Yeah, Rupe went down and had a chat.’ Carter leaned his chin on his hand. He reached for the coffee at his elbow, sipping and pulling a face. Jim huffed a soft laugh when he saw that.

‘You should be here.’ he said. ‘Our coffee is a lot better.’

‘Not a fucking chance in hell you’d get me on one of those things. Fucking steel coffin.’ Carter retorted. They were both dancing around the question and they knew it.

‘So how was he?’ Jim eventually asked, and Carter could hear the tightness in his voice despite the practiced casual tone.

‘Not good, pretty much the same.’ he replied and Jim looked away from the screen. Carter watched the muscles in his jaw work as he battled to get himself under control. He knew how much it was costing Jim, and he desperately wanted to lie to him, to tell him Ross was doing better than he had been. But that wouldn’t do anyone any good at all, and Carter knew enough about the man Ross was in love with, even if he was behaving like a first class wanker, to know that Jim would want him to be straight with him and not sugar coat anything. It was one of the things Carter liked most about him.

‘How about you, you going to be okay?’ Carter asked. ‘Honest answer.’

‘Fuck knows.’ Jim’s voice was almost lifeless. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can take this. If he wants to fucking end it, I wish he would just fucking say something and be done. This not knowing is going to kill me.’

‘He does love you, you know.’ Carter said. ‘He hasn’t let that damn book out of his sight since we gave it to him. He’s just being an emotionally stunted git at the moment. He’ll come around.’

‘Maybe.’ Jim didn’t sound convinced. ‘Or maybe he’ll just decide that we’re better off without each other. Either way, I’m running out of patience.’ He sighed and ran one hand through his hair, still not looking at Carter. ‘I’m sorry, I’m kind of dumping all this on you.’

‘I offered, mate.’ Carter replied. ‘Listen, I have to scarper but I’ll get in touch later yeah?’

‘Thank you Ike.’ Jim said. ‘I appreciate this.’ Carter smiled. 

‘No problem, Jim. Try and chill, okay?’ he gave a little wave and then the called ended. Jim sat a few more minutes, looking at the screen then sighed and closed his laptop.

‘Ross.’ he said to himself, not for the first time. ‘What the fuck is going on with you?’ 

********

Ross came out of the office, his stomach in knots and his head spinning. 

He hadn’t liked Major George Warleggan the moment he’d laid eyes on him. The man was the worst kind of Oxbridge snob that Ross had spent a large proportion and almost all of his adult life trying to avoid. It was to Holmewood’s credit that he was so well bred that he had no social boundaries at all. Warleggan was of that other breed, the kind Ross had often heard speaking far too loudly at the edge of polo fields or at garden parties, their braying voices carrying too far as they joked about which bird they’d managed to con into their beds the night before. Warleggan would have run with the crowd at school whose parents knew the right kind of people to make their lives easy, so they never really had to work for anything. Ross knew he was a little hypocritical in condemning them, after all he was as public school as the rest of them, but he’d never developed that streak of entitlement that they had seemed to wear like a badge of honour. 

So now here he was, stuck with a therapist who’d spent the last hour addressing him as Captain in a superior tone, looking down his elegantly long nose at him and firing question after question until Ross was reduced to the sullen silence that had been his tried and tested defence at school. Back then it had gotten him a reputation as a moody bugger who was best left alone. Here, it would have far more serious consequences.

He leaned against the wall next to the door and struggled in vain to quiet the raging turmoil inside him, the feeling of impotent rage and complete panic that was making his head hurt and his hands shake.

He couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of Tedworth.

***********

Jim sat at his post in the Ops room, watching the screen of the Command Centre carefully as the team under his command ran through the drills they were doing as part of the joint exercise they were taking part in with the Philippino Navy. He found solace and calm in the strings of numbers and complex algorithms that allowed him to track everything in the air around the ship. It was the perfect antidote to the way his brain worked, forcing him to focus intently and disregard everything around him. For the first time in days he felt like himself. 

He complete the exercise as expected, his performance nothing short of exemplary as it usually was. Afterwards he went to the Officer’s Mess to do what Sellar called the ‘sociables’, mingling with officers from the host country and pretending to be all smiles while inside he was ready to scream and break things in frustration. He couldn’t get away fast enough, but Sellar spotted that he was not happy and very kindly sent him off on an errand that excused him from the rest of the afternoon’s activities. 

So he was now at the desk in the Ops Room office, a book of coding open on his lap and a notebook open on the table in front of him, idly twirling the pen in his fingers as he let his mind wander. Of course it inevitably came to land on Ross. Jim sighed, knowing that sooner or later he was going to have to call Ross on what was going on between them. He needed to know whether he was wasting his time still hanging onto the belief that there was something, anything between them.

He looked at the book and then reached down and wrote the words one week in the margin. It felt better to see them in black and white. That was what he needed to do. Ross would be at Tedworth for one more week and then he would move back to the house in Bovington. 

And if he hadn’t contacted Jim by then, then Jim would do the honourable thing and call it all off. The very thought of it made his heart ache unbearably, but Jim knew he had to do it, for both their sakes.

The thought of it ending should have made him feel better. 

It didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the eagle-eyed among you, yes. Carter's first name is Ike. It's short for Isaac.


	5. Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross goes home and Jim goes insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Ever Fallen In Love by the Buzzcocks
> 
> Also the spelling mistakes were totally Taupe's idea.

Ross was outside the front door of his house, leaning on his crutches. Behind him Graham, the orderly that had brought him home from Tedworth, held his bag and looked at him.

‘Captain Poldark?’ he asked. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes.’ Ross replied. He half turned, a tight forced smile on his face. ‘I can take it from here. You can go if you want to.’

‘I’d prefer it if we could go inside and I could get you settled.’ Graham said.

He was a bear of a man, broad shouldered and shaven headed. He looked like a rugby forward and was as strong as one as well. Ross liked him well enough, but he’d hated being in Tedworth where everyone was so earnest and so understanding, except for the physiotherapists who were all army and who’d been bullying him into a state of fairly good mobility for the last two weeks.

Ross had been diligent about that, following his prescribed routine and pushing himself to get to the point where they thought he could be trusted to be on his own. That had been one of the conditions of his release from Tedworth. That, and the assurance that he would attend clinics regularly and also attend the therapy sessions that had been set up for him. That had been a major bone of contention for him. Ross was very quick to admit that he wasn’t the most emotionally forthcoming person in the world. Since running away from Jim, he’d pretty much kept everything bottled up inside him. After he was injured and had to endure four weeks of recovery in the Camp Bastion hospital, he’d pretty much cut everyone off. What made things even more difficult was Warleggan. Ross was quite sure it had been hate on first sight when he’d gone into the office and met the man who was supposed to be guiding his mental recovery. The man made Ross’ hackles go up every single time they spoke, managing to reduce him to the stumbling gawky schoolboy he had been when he was a teenager.

He hadn’t told anyone about the amount of willpower it was taking simply to get up in the morning. Or about the dreams that he’d been having, dreams of bright sunlight and voices shouting in Arabic and the smell of phosphorus burning through the shell of a tank.

Carter and Holmewood were keeping tabs on him via email, and he knew that they had asked Captain Sinclair to phone Tedworth a couple of times. One of the reception girls had let that slip. Ross was halfway between gratitude and annoyance, but in the end he accepted it and was happy enough that they were looking out for him.

He still hadn’t spoken to Jim yet.

While he was still in Afghanistan, Carter and Holmewood had made some gentle overtures towards him, trying to get him to take that step and speak to Jim, but Ross couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt bad enough about all the shit that had happened in their last weekend together, not to mention the lack of communication for the first three months of their deployment followed by his stubborn refusal to even talk to Jim after that first abortive conversation.

‘All right.’ he said and moved aside, handing Graham the keys. The orderly took then and went to open the front door. He went inside and Ross followed. The house was spotless. Holmewood employed a cleaning service while they were on deployment and they had just been the day before. Ross made a mental note to call them and cancel it. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of strange people coming into the house twice a week. Besides, he was perfectly capable of cleaning a house. Out of the three of them, he was almost as tidy as Carter, but that was only because Carter’s mother Amelia was terrifying. She had managed to raise five boys in South London on her own after she’d divorced carter’s father and that alone spoke volumes about her character.

Graham took Ross’ bag upstairs and Ross went into the kitchen to fill the kettle and put it on. The fridge was clean but empty, as were most of the cupboards. Graham had stopped off at the Co-Op so Ross had the basic groceries and a selection of things he could chuck in the freezer and once he was settled in he could do Tesco home delivery easily enough. Graham came back downstairs and went out to the car, bringing in the groceries and then he and Ross put everything away. Then Ross made them a cup of tea and they sat at the kitchen table and drank it.

‘You have the centre number if you need anything.’ Graham said. ‘The shuttle will be here for you tomorrow at nine.’

‘I know.’ Ross said, trying to sound convincingly confident. ‘I’ll be waiting.’

Graham thankfully didn’t stay long. He made sure that Ross was happy with manoeuvering around the house, helped shift a couple of piece of furniture and made the bed up for him. He did frown when he saw the two flights of stairs Ross had to climb, but Ross pointed out that he was supposed to be making use of load bearing exercise to strengthen his leg and Graham grudgingly allowed him to sleep in his own room. Ross bit his tongue, knowing the man was only trying to help, but he desperately wanted him out of the house, out of his space so he could just let go. He hadn’t enjoyed living in the petri dish environment of the rehabilitation centre at all.

He remained polite until the end, and waved Graham off from the front step before hopping inside and closing the door behind him. Then he was able to let himself go, shoulders sagging and head dropping as the waves of exhaustion that came from having to keep his game face in place washed over him. He looked up towards the stairs, and then started the long climb up to his room. He left the dirty tea mugs on the table, reasoning that he would clean them when he came downstairs to make himself dinner later.

Once in his room, he looked around the tidy space. Graham had left his bag on the bed, and the first thing Ross did was go over and unzip it. The book was on top, and he took it out and placed it almost reverently on his bedside table. He took a moment to flip open the front cover and look at the photograph inside for a moment. The ache in his chest had lessened a little over time, but he felt he still couldn’t look at Jim for too long before the sadness caught up with him. Then he unpacked his pain meds, the clothes he’d worn at the centre and finally his washbag from the very bottom.

Ross felt more knackered than he ever had in his life.

Instead of putting everything away as he normally would, Ross decided that it could just stay on the floor for the evening. He shoved the clothing and his other possessions onto the floor on the other side of his bed and then sat down to take off his shoes. Once he was done, he stood up and pulled off his hoodie and the t-shirt underneath it. He’d lost most of the tan he’d picked up in Afghanistan and his skin broke out in goose bumps as a breeze from the open window drifted over it. Graham had opened it to air the room a little, but Ross felt cold so he hobbled over to the window and closed it. He caught a glimpse of himself in the full length mirror next to the door and gave himself a quick once over. He tried to avoid looking too long at his face. The scar was still livid, a dark angry red against his paling skin.

The last thing he did was take his mobile out of his back pocket and switch it off. He tried to keep it off as much as possible. It just felt easier to deal with his day and what it entailed without having the added stress of having to talk to people. It was also one of the reasons that he’d left his laptop back in Afghanistan with Carter, who didn’t have one. The fact that it meant that Jim couldn’t keep in touch with him was something that he pushed to the back of his mind, consoling himself with the fact that he knew that Carter and Holmewood had been speaking to Jim so he had no need to worry.

He lay down on the bed after cushioning his healing lower leg on one of his pillows before dragging the blanket that was folded at the foot end over him. Then he made himself as comfortable as he could, one hand going to the ring still hanging around his neck. It was little scratched now, a little worn, but when he held onto it and closed his eyes he could imagine that last night, the smell of Jim on his skin that he hadn’t been able to quite wash off and the sound of Jim’s voice, low and warm, telling Ross he loved him.

When Ross finally woke up it was dark in the room and for a moment he panicked at the complete and utter silence. Then he remembered he was home. He picked up his phone and checked the time. It was almost two o’clock in the morning. Ross knew he should probably get up and go downstairs to have something to eat but he was so comfortable and he felt so tired that he just stayed where he was.

************

Ross was soon in a routine. He would drag himself out of bed, shower and get dressed to go to the centre. The shuttle would collect him at nine and he would spend the morning in physical therapy to strengthen his leg and then in therapy with Warleggan for an hour. By then he wanted nothing more than to get into bed and forget the day had even happened.

He discovered a bunch of old take-away menus in one of the kitchen drawers. That solved his food problem, and he discovered that living off cold pizza actually worked rather well. There was a weird tendency for him to forget to eat though.

Things started to take too much effort, and by the end of the fifth day he had stopped shaving. Again he just couldn’t be bothered and he wasn’t going to the centre in his uniform so he didn’t see the need for it. It wasn’t like he could impress Warleggan. The man had taken one look at Ross down his long elegant nose and given him a look that told Ross that he would never live up to the standards Warleggan set. It was the same look his mother had worn his entire life. The only thing that he felt like doing was sleeping. He did a lot of that and told himself it was because his body needed to heal.

The first attack happened a week after he got back to the house.

It had been a normal day. Ross had gone to the centre. Physical therapy had gone as normal but it was when he got to therapy that it all went pear shaped. Warleggan, he’d discovered, was a compulsive box ticker.

‘Poldark.’ he’d said when Ross entered his office after the imperious command to come in. ‘We really must talk about your progress. You should be far further along by now.’ Then he’d given Ross a look over his Ipad that would have not been out of place on the face of a disappointed parent. It was a look Ross was also very familiar with. Then he’d rapid fired question after question at Ross until Ross felt like he just wanted to bolt for the door. But instead he’d gritted his teeth and answered them, feeling the lurching in his stomach get worse and worse. Warleggan had finally dismissed him, and Ross had left his office and gone straight to the head.

He did feel a perverse bit of pride at the fact that he managed to wait until he was in the locked cubicle before losing his breakfast. He’d vomited repeatedly until he was dry retching, and then slumped to the floor of the cubicle, the turmoil inside him raging out of control. Afterwards, while he was washing his mouth out over the sink, he’d looked up and hardly recognised the unshaven wild-eyed man looking back at him in the mirror.

He had been signed up for a group cognitive therapy session that afternoon, but had begged off by saying that he was pretty sure he’d picked up a bug. Fortunately his red-rimmed eyes and clammy, pallid face had convinced the duty sergeant and she’d let him go home. Ross had damned the expense and gotten a taxi. On the way home, he made the driver stop at the off license. He’d gone in and come out with two packs of cigarettes and a litre of vodka.

He didn’t know why he’d bought the alcohol. He’d always drunk for recreation, and had preferred getting sociably hammered with others to getting blind drunk on his own. He hadn’t had any alcohol at all since three days before the attack on the convoy, which meant he hadn’t had a drink for a whole month. Which made it even more absurd that he’d bought a fucking litre of the stuff. He hadn’t even got anything at the house to chase it down with except half a bottle of flat cola. Ross had ended up incoherent and on the floor of the kitchen. As he would have realised if he’d been in his right mind, combining his pain mediation and neat vodka (he’d finished the cola by that stage) was a terrible idea. What made it worse was the crushing realisation that if he keeled over and died from the horrible side effects, there would be no-one to realise it until he failed to show up at the centre the next morning. And that made him think of Jim, and suddenly it was like his entire world collapsed.

Ross thought he’d done so well, pushing his dreams of strong arms around him and dancing blue-green eyes away as far as he possibly could, but now everything came back with a force that crushed him utterly. The one thing he’d always felt with Jim was that strange sense of security and serenity, and it had been completely lacking from his life since the morning he’d stolen out of Jim’s bed and left him behind.

But now Ross was forced to confront the fact that he missed Jim so much, it was like someone had cut out his heart. He felt a surge of need so strong that it hurt him physically. He craved Jim’s soothing presence, wanted so badly for him to be there to hold him and tell him everything was going to be fine. Instead, Ross had pushed him away, had disassociated himself because he had been so scared by how much he had fallen in love with Jim that it felt like hiding away had been the only solution.

That was the point that he took out his phone.

**********

Jim came off morning watch, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He had found it to be best if he was so tired when he went to bed that he could just clamber into his bunk and drop off quickly. Too often of late his dreams had been filled with hazel eyes. In spite of that though, his threat to end things with Ross had come to nothing. He’d written the email a hundred times, sometimes raging at Ross for everything he was making him feel and sometimes simply writing a single sentence saying it was over. And every time he’d gotten ready to send it, something had scratched at the back of his mind and he’d ended up deleting the damn thing. Even so, he was so damn angry now that he could barely be bothered to hide it anymore. Even Preston and Halford were avoiding him, recognising the thundercloud that followed him around well enough to want to avoid getting swept into the undertow behind his perpetual bad mood. It was a hard thing for them to take, considering his normally sunny disposition. But they had been friends a long time and at least they understood, even if they did duck around corners when they saw him coming.

He got to his cabin, not stopping to even speak to anyone on the officer’s corridor. Once inside he locked the door behind him, and started to strip off his uniform. He debated having a shower and then decided against it. He’d just get sweaty later when he went to work out, so he changed into a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt and climbed up into his bunk.

His laptop was lying half hidden in the rumpled duvet and Jim debated finishing the film he’d been watching the rest period before. He opened it, still in two minds. As the welcome screen came on he was surprised to see that he had an email. Jim was confused. He’d spoken to Rose the night before when he’d been getting ready to go on watch and knew it couldn’t be her. For one brilliantly wonderful moment he wondered if it could be from Ross, but then he’d forced himself to accept the fact that it more than likely was going to be some random thing. He clicked on the icon and his inbox came up.

It wasn’t some random thing.

It was from Ross.

Jim sat up straight, butterflies coming to frantic life in his stomach. It had been a month and a week since Ross had been injured. Carter had been so good about updating him all the time, had kept Jim appraised while still managing to keep him calm about Ross’ condition as well. He knew that Ross had suffered no lasting effects from the head injury, although Carter had told him that Ross now had a scar down the side of his face, not that that mattered one iota to Jim. He couldn’t care less what Ross looked like so long as he was alive.

But after Ross had gone home to England, there had been precious little. Jim knew that Carter and Holmewood had managed to get Ross’ doctor on side and that she was getting very abbreviated reports from Tedworth, but now Ross had been moved home again and there was almost nothing. He’d tried not to think about it, had thrown himself into his duties.

Jim was also scared. Scared of what so long without talking would do to them. Scared of whether Ross even loved him anymore. He sat and stared at the screen, and let the arrow hover over the email, but didn’t click to open it.

Jim didn’t know how long he sat there for but then it was like his brain, which had been fogged with uncertainty these past months, cleared.

‘Fuck it.’ he muttered to himself. ‘If he wants to end it it’s better to know.’ He clicked the email and started to read. There was no greeting. At first he frowned, trying to make sense of the incoherent rambling but then, as he read and reread, he started to see what he should have seen all along.

_I don’t know what to say to you. I have tried again and again to say something anything that will make you unertsand that I need you so badlyand want you to come home byt I can’t aks you to do that. I miss you so much it hurts all the time and I just want to lie down and go to sleep and wake up with you next to me but youll never come back to me now and all I want is you. I am so stupid for pushing you away and I wish I culd ask you to come back but you wont._

_I love you_

Every shred of anger, every bit of doubt and every possible reason why was washed away by a tidal wave of emotion as he read the last three words, the only three words he’d been needing to hear for the last four months. Suddenly it was like everything came inot focus and Jim knew exactly what he needed to do, even if it meant throwing himself overboard and swimming to the mainland.

He slammed the laptop shut and almost vaulted out of his bunk, putting his shoes on as fast as he possibly could and then tearing out of his cabin and through the ship as quickly as decorum would allow him. He knew Sellar was off duty and once he got to the almost empty corridor that led to Sellar’s cabin, Jim threw all his discipline out the window and started running. By the time he got to the door he was out of breath, and had to wait a few moments before he knocked. When he did, Sellar answered fairly quickly. He was in a faded Metallica T-shirt and jeans, his off duty uniform, and his hair was a mess. Jim couldn’t speak. Instead he looked at Sellar pleadingly and realisation dawned on Sellar’s face without him having to say a single word.

‘Come in.’ he said and stood aside to let Jim enter his cabin.

************

Ross woke up on the kitchen floor, on his side with his arm going numb underneath him. He coughed, his throat burning in protest. He grimaced at the long forgotten taste of too many cigarettes and pushed himself into a sitting position. He tried to recall the last hours of the previous evening and then he saw his phone sitting on the floor not too far from him. A wave of panic washed over him as he tried desperately to remember what he’d done. Thankfully when he grabbed it and checked the call records he could see that he hadn’t called anyone. Then a nagging little voice in the back his head told him to check his emails, so he did, hands shaking. There was one in his drafts and he opened it. As he read what he’d written he was filled with shame and guilt and felt an overwhelming sense of relief that even in his inebriated state he’d managed to control himself enough to not to send it. He deleted it immediately, not wanting to reread the rambling and almost incoherent message he’d written.

What he didn’t do, which was not surprising considering how hungover and generally confused he was, was check his sent box. If he had he would have known what was coming.

Instead he switched his phone off and put it away entirely. After all, if it was off then that meant he couldn’t do anything stupid and potentially catastrophic like actually send Jim an email. That would be so very bad. For one thing he didn’t want Jim to see the state he was in. Secondly, he was pretty damn sure that Jim had given up on him by now. He hadn’t had an email for at least two weeks. He was pretty sure of that. Carter and Holmewood never mentioned Jim in their emails either and he hadn’t called the centre.

Part of Ross was relieved beyond measure that it seemed to have just drifted off and died a natural death. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation. He didn’t think he could cope with actually having to explain to Jim that he felt too broken to be of any use in a relationship and that he had been keeping him away for Jim’s own good. Nobody needed to be tied down like that.

But the other part of him was devastated. He’d never felt the way he had felt (and still felt the little traitorous part of his brain said) about someone before the way he’d felt about Jim. Like he’d found the other part of himself, and it was too fast and too intense and too much but it was also the most incredible thing that had ever happened to him. Ross wanted to cling to it, to hang on and demand that Jim come back, beg him if he needed to.

It was not a good day. He called the centre, begging off sick, something he hated doing but he honestly felt so shit that it wasn’t really a lie. He’d been really good about going to the centre when he needed to that they didn’t question him, especially as the two pack of cigarettes had made him sound awful. And when the call was done Ross went to bed without even bothering to eat. He drifted in and out of sleep, and every time he woke up he fought the battle to get out of bed, to go downstairs and find food or even to just see the sunlight. The only time he was forced to get up was to go to the bathroom, and he did hover on the landing for a moment. But the siren call of the room, and his bed where nothing mattered and he could just pretend the world didn’t exist was too strong.  
So back he went.


	6. Otherside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Ross are back in the same space, but there is something wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Otherside by The Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Preston walked down the officer’s corridor with a plastic shopping carrier in her hand. Inside were presents for her family and a bunch of chocolate bars for Jim, their preferred form of payment. She got to his door and saw it was open as various people had been stopping by to say goodbye to him. She stuck her head around it and looked at Jim. He was dressed for travel already, jeans and a t-shirt with Darth Vader on the front, black hoodie tied around his waist and his aviators pushed up on his blond hair, packing the last of his things into his duffle bag. It made her smile on the inside. Sci-fi tees meant he was getting back to normal. It was a very strange barometer to measure Jim’s state of mind, but it was surprisingly accurate. 

‘Hey you.’ she said and he looked up, then smiled at her.

‘That it?’ he asked and Preston handed it to him. Jim wrapped it carefully in another hoodie and packed it on the top, zipping the bag closed over it. He straightened up and looked at her. Preston looked back, seeing the colour in his face and the sparkle in his blue-green eyes. And all it had taken was one email. 

‘You going to be okay?’ she asked. ‘I know how much you hate doing this.’ Jim shrugged.

‘If I could swim back to him I would.’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘But this is the fastest way to get there, or so I’m told.’ 

‘Funny.’ Preston said. ‘You should take that act on stage.’ Jim smiled, a proper dimpled smile like she hadn’t seen in ages. ‘You look happy. You do realise that you could get there and he might slam the door in your face.’

‘Maybe.’ Jim said. ‘But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I love him.’

‘You must if you’re willing to sit on a plane for that long just to get back to him.’ Preston said. Jim pulled a face.

‘Please don’t fucking remind me.’ he said, then checked his watch. ‘Shit, I have to go. The Chinook’s leaving in forty minutes.’

‘Have you got everything?’ Preston asked. ‘Passport?’

‘Check.’ Jim replied. He came over to her and put his arms around her, hugging her tightly. Preston responded. 

‘We’ll miss you.’ she said. 

‘I’ll miss you too.’ Jim replied. ‘But I have to do this.’

**********

Fifteen hours later, Jim looked out the window, his teeth gritted and his hands clenched into fists and cursed himself and Ross a little bit if he was being honest. There really were no words for how much he hated what he was doing right at that moment. Not only that, but it was costing a fucking fortune. 

The woman sitting next to him had been far too friendly as well, and Jim was in the state of mind that really didn’t want or need a fifteen hour conversation. So he’d made small talk hoping she’d get the hint, then politely ignored her for most of the trip when she didn’t and she’d thankfully passed out next to him after a substantial number of vodka and tonics. 

As for himself, he was far too wound up to sleep. His absolute hatred of flying, coupled with the stress of the six weeks meant that he was so wound up all he’d been able to do was sit and compulsively do Sudoku after Sudoku, the normally calming mathematical puzzles doing very little to soothe his mind. Eventually he’d taken out his e-reader and buried himself in Homer, a very poor substitute for his own copy. The copy he’d given to Ross. At least he still had it so that was something. And now they were in a holding pattern above Heathrow, and this was the part he hated most, being so close to home soil but not being able to just land and get off the damn plane. 

He’d had to wait a week after getting Ross’ email, and not a single one of the emails he sent back had been answered. Even Carter and Holmewood were getting no response, but his fears had at least been alieved by Donovan who’d confirmed that Ross was still coming to the centre. However, he was far less forthcoming than Sinclair had been, and his carefully worded reports to Jim really told him very little about how Ross actually doing. Sellar, by contrast, had been wonderful about everything. He’d already spoken to brass about Jim’s situation and it took only a week to get him the extra compassionate leave he needed added to his already sizeable bank that he had saved up, making a grand total of two months that Jim could spend at home, in England, with Ross.

Jim chewed on a nail, leg jumping convulsively as he tried to stifle the excitement and trepidation he felt at being in the same country as Ross. And quite frankly, he didn’t even care if he got there and Ross didn’t want him anymore. He just needed some fucking resolution. 

It took another forty-five minutes for them to land. Jim was on his feet the minute the seat belt sign went off. He simply couldn’t sit still any longer, and he watched impatiently as the people in front of him on the plane disembarked at the speed of molasses moving uphill.

‘You’re very keen.’ The woman who’d been sitting next to him remarked. She was standing in the way of the aisle like she had all day and Jim had to resist the urge to vault over her. ‘Is there a lovely lady waiting on the other side for you?’

‘Not unless my boyfriend’s had a surprise sex change.’ he said and used her momentary speechlessness to neatly get by her and into the queue heading out of the plane.

Once out of the aircraft he went through passport control and had to endure an official giving him a strange look at the myriad of stamps in his passport. Jim gave the man a stare back and finally was waved through. Thankfully he’d taken his duffle on as hand luggage and didn’t have to wait to collect anything. 

He made his way downstairs into the tube station and checked his watch. It was just after eight o’clock in the evening and he knew he would feel like shit the next day once his jet lag kicked in. At least he’d gained time and not the other way round. He got a ticket from the machine and then got on the next train that stopped. 

Fifty minutes later Jim was at waterloo, looking at the departures board. The next train to Weymouth that stopped at Wool was only at half past nine, so he went upstairs after buying his ticket and went to the pub at the end. He called Rose and had a long chat with her then watched the news at the bar while he drank his beer and ate before the fatigue started to kick in.

By the time he got on the train, Jim could barely keep his eyes open. He found a table seat, put his duffle in the corner of the chair next to him and used it to cushion himself, then sat down and put his earbuds in, drowning out the sound around him. He was asleep before the train was out of London.

**************

Ross lay in bed and stared at the wall. He wasn’t sure which day it was, but he knew that it had been a day or so since he was at the centre. At least he thought so. It seemed to be getting progressively harder for him to keep track of time. He had also hardly eaten that day, not really hungry enough to warrant actually making anything and too much effort to call and get anything in. He realised that the food Graham had bought was probably still in the fridge, untouched, and he hadn’t even opened to freezer since he’d been back. Not that it mattered anyway, he was the only one around. 

He had barely been up. It was an off day for him, so he’d hardly seen the need to get out of bed for most of it. And he was still so very tired lately, that all he wanted to do was sleep. But now, at night, he didn’t want to sleep. He knew that closing his eyes would stand a good chance of bringing back the nightmares that never seemed to come during the day. So, instead he’d just lie awake and wait for the sun to come up and then he could sleep. Ross sighed heavily and turned over onto his back.

That was when the doorbell went.

At first Ross thought that he was dreaming, that maybe he was simply asleep and his brain had convinced him that he was awake. Not once since he’d gotten back to Bovington had his doorbell been rung by anyone other than the shuttle driver, and certainly not at night. Frowning, Ross reached out and switched the bedside light on, blinking like a mole at the sudden assault on his eyes. He made an automatic movement to pick up his phone and check the time, then realised that it wasn’t there. After he’d had that close call, he’d switched it off. He lay for a moment wondering where the hell it was. His thoughts drifted and then the doorbell rang again. Ross debated leaving it unanswered. He wasn’t really in a fit state to see people. But then it rang again and this time it was followed by someone calling his name. That got his attention.

He rolled over again and pushed himself to sit up, arms and legs like lead. He looked around for the protective cast he was supposed to wear and then had a moment of confusion when he couldn’t find it, until he looked down and realised it was still on. Ross frowned and then got to his feet, unsteady and becoming more alarmed as the minutes went by at the person at his door who just wasn’t going away. He grabbed the t-shirt off the foot of his bed, and pulled it on then made his very slow way to his door and down the small flight of stairs, bracing himself with his hands as he went.

The main staircase was a little trickier and Ross took his time getting to the bottom. He got to the front door and took a deep breath before unlocking and opening it. The surreal nature of the situation wasn’t lost on him, no matter how far gone he was, that under ordinary circumstances he would never have opened the door in the middle of the night unless he knew who was on the other side, but he wasn’t thinking very clearly. He pulled the door open just as the person was starting to walk back down to the waiting taxi at the end of the drive. The automatic light went on as the person moved, and Ross caught a gleam of gold hair.

‘Jim?’ he asked, and his voice was harsh and cracked. He couldn’t remember if he’d spoken to anyone in the past two days. He couldn’t remember if he’d even spoken at all. The person stopped, shoulders dropping noticeably. Then he turned around and Ross saw the face that had been haunting his dreams the past four months, when he wasn’t dreaming about death and heat and fire that was.

‘Hi.’ he said, and then he frowned. ‘Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I should have come in the morning, but I wasn’t sure if I would catch you.’ There was a hesitant note in his voice.

Ross was at a loss as to what to do. The last thing he’d expected was this and the shock of seeing Jim in his front garden wasn’t quite hitting him in a normal way either. For a moment all he could do was stare at him. Jim stared back.

‘Ross?’ he asked. ‘I can come back tomorrow if you want?’ His voice, which now sounded too loud and too real, startled Ross out of his trance.

‘No.’ he found himself saying completely on impulse. ‘You can stay. If you want to.’ Then he kicked himself for saying that. Why on earth would he do that? Panicking he added ‘Although the place is probably not great. I’ve been a bit busy to really keep it up.’ Jim shrugged.

‘That’s fine by me. But I’m only coming in if you want me to.’ He was looking at Ross questioningly and he realised that Jim was obviously seeing something that he shouldn’t be seeing. Ross went into overcompensation, and forced himself to smile at the man who’d been able to make him smile more than any other person ever had simply by giving him the right kind look. Now, of course it was all for show and Ross hoped desperately that Jim wouldn’t see through it.

‘Of course I do.’ he said and stepped back into the darkened hall. ‘Come in.’ Jim’s frown deepened, but he looked back at the taxi and nodded and Ross watched as it pulled off. Then he followed Ross inside. Ross skirted around him nervously, while trying very hard to hide that fact that he was so thrown by the fact that Jim was back. He knew he’d lost track of time, but it couldn’t have been that long.

‘Living room?’ he asked and Jim nodded and went in, switching on the light as he passed. Ross followed him, and the bright light hurt his eyes momentarily. Jim sat down on one of the sofas and put his bag on the floor next to him. Ross wasn’t really sure what to do, so he just stood in the doorway. ‘Are you on your way to see Rose?’ he asked. Jim’s expression changed and then it smoothed out, carefully neutral.

‘No.’ he said. ‘I’m here to see you.’

‘Why?’ Ross asked and then glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen. He knew she should offer Jim something but he had no idea what was still in the kitchen. ‘Look, I’m not sure if I have anything but …’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Jim said. ‘Honestly, I’m just really knackered from the flight.’ He took a breath and then looked at Ross, his eyes starting to look concerned. ‘Why did you ask me why?’ The question threw Ross and he felt an overwhelming urge to run upstairs (if he could have run) and hide. 

‘I just wasn’t expecting you to turn up unannounced on my doorstep, that’s all.’ he said. ‘I didn’t know you were coming. I thought you were still on deployment.’

‘I am technically still on deployment.’ Jim was speaking slowly now, almost as if to a child. It irritated Ross intensely for some reason. ‘But I’ve been given leave for two months. Sellar sorted it so I could come here.’

‘Why would you want to come here?’ Ross asked, confused. ‘I didn’t ask you to.’ 

‘No, not in so many words. But you said that you wanted to.’ Jim said. ‘I wasn’t going to ignore an email like that. So I came.’ 

Ross felt the first stirrings of horror at Jim’s words. He knew which email he was talking about.

‘I didn’t send it.’ he said, voice so low that it was almost inaudible. ‘You couldn’t have read it because I didn’t send it.’ The wave of fear and panic that he felt surging through him made him almost physically ill. ‘I didn’t ask you for anything.’

‘Yes, you did.’ Jim was on his feet now. His calm expression wavered slightly as he crossed over to Ross, pulling his mobile from his pocket. ‘Look for yourself.’ He handed the mobile to Ross and watched as Ross read the email on the screen.

It was all there in black and white. All the words he’d written and then deleted thinking he hadn’t sent them. All the words he had never wanted Jim to see.

‘Oh fuck.’ he said. ‘You were never meant to see this.’ He couldn’t even look Jim in the eye as he handed the phone back. ‘Oh Christ…’

‘It’s all right, Ross.’ Jim said. ‘It’s fine.’

‘No, it’s not fucking fine.’ Ross said. He turned away and walked towards the stairs. ‘None of this is fucking fine.’ He went up, not caring about the fact that he’d effectively abandoned Jim in the door to the living room, and he didn’t stop until he was in the safety of his room, closing the door behind him.

************

Jim stood in the doorway of the living room, unable to even speak he was so shocked. It had taken every last bit of his self-control not to look appalled at everything around him and at the person who’d opened the door. Before he’d left, Ross had been bright eyed, clean shaven and fit, his dark hair neatly cut and his clothes reflecting the careful state he kept himself in. 

The Ross that had opened the door was thinner and pale. His thick curly hair was long and unruly, and his face was covered in a beard that Jim knew was distinctly non-regulation, the new scar standing out in spite of the attempt to cover it up. And while it was bad, Jim had been expecting it. he was far more concerned with Ross' dark eyes which had had a hunted look about them and seeing that he’d clearly been thrown by Jim’s presence even before the little revelation about the email. The t-shirt and sweats he was wearing had clearly been worn for a couple of days already and both the clothes and the whole house smelled musty, like they hadn’t been exposed to the air hadn’t been aired in weeks. 

Jim looked around him now and took in the living room. Every surface was thick with dust. On impulse he went into the kitchen, noting the stack of unopened mail on the hall table, and switched on the light. The kitchen was a state, littered with empty take away boxed and soda bottles. There were two mugs on the dining room table that had clearly been there for ages judging by what was growing in the bottom of them. Jim jumped a little when he heard a door slam somewhere above him and knew that Ross was in his room. He sighed softly to himself, then went to the fridge. He opened it, surveyed the contents and quickly closed it again. 

‘Jesus, Ross.’ he said to himself. 

Jim was no stranger to this. He remembered a time when he had come home to a house in a similar state after a week at sea cadet camp, a frightened twelve-year old who couldn’t understand why his mother, who had always been the bright capable sun at the centre of his childhood self’s universe, was struggling to get out of bed or make dinner or look after him the way she always had. It had been a week before his best friends had noticed that he was turning up to school in clothes that hadn’t been washed and with no lunch. And that was when Ruth had turned up on their doorstep, her kind smile and no-nonsense manner reassuring in a home that had descended into chaos. They had taken Jim away for a while, and he’d spent the next week at the rambling manor house with Billie and Alec and their grandmother Betty, while Ruth moved in with Rose. Then, when he’d been brought home, Ruth had calmly and patiently taught him how to do things. In hindsight, Jim knew that the adults around him had been terrified that Jim, who was an only child of only children and whose grandparents were all dead, would be taken into state care. So, instead they had given him the tools to look after himself and his mother. And it had done a world of good for him as well, making him feel adult and responsible and inadvertently making his own initial grieving process a lot more bearable.

So yes, he knew the signs of depression when he saw them. And while he knew that Ross needed him very badly, he’d also read the shock and then blatant horror on Ross’ face when he’d seen him, even if he had invited him in. That was why, even though he desperately wanted to run up the stairs and knock the bloody door down if he had to to get to Ross, he wouldn’t. He knew that Ross needed a safe place to hide from him. It was fine, and Jim knew that nothing would come if he didn’t give Ross his space. It would be fine, Carter had already offered Jim the use of his room.

Instead he put his hands on his hips and looked around the kitchen. This he could deal with.

**********

The next morning Ross woke up and heard the sounds of someone moving around downstairs. He felt a moment of abject terror and then he remembered. 

Jim.

Ross sat up, his body stiff and his head foggy as it normally was these days, after long nights of disturbed sleep. He managed to swing his legs over the side and then got up. When he opened the door, he could smell coffee. It was amazing. He hadn’t used the coffee machine for two weeks. Against all his better judgement, he found himself stumbling downstairs, lured in by the smell. When Ross got to the ground floor, he heard noises in the kitchen ad realised with a flood of shame that the state it was in was truly appalling. He gritted his teeth, and went in, and was immediately on the back foot. For a moment he wondered of he’d walked into the wrong kitchen in the wrong house, or maybe he was still dreaming.

The place was spotless. Ross looked around and then at Jim who was at the stove cooking. He frowned as he noticed that he was still in the jeans and t-shirt from the night before and when he turned to look at Ross, his face was tired. 

‘Morning.’ he said. Ross stood, rooted to the spot.

‘Morning.’ he replied. 

‘I found you schedule.’ Jim said and nodded to a piece of paper that was stuck to the fridge door with one of the atrocious magnets that Holmewood kept insisting on buying. This one was in the shape of a koala and it had ‘Welcome to Australia!’ written in red across its bum. ‘You're at the centre today.’

‘Yeah.’ Ross said. ‘The shuttle usually comes to get me at about ten.’ 

‘Well, it’s a little after nine now.’ Jim said, looking at his watch. ‘You can eat and then go have a shower if you want.’ His tone was effortlessly casual. ‘I’m still tired so I’ll get some rest and then go shopping. We’ll need a couple of things, if I’m going to stay.’ He emptied the contents of the pan onto a plate and brought it over to Ross. ‘You want to eat here or take it upstairs?’ Ross stared at the plate. It was French toast, his favourite, dusted in icing sugar. A strange little pain started in his chest. 

‘I’ll take it upstairs.’ he said, battling to keep his voice from shaking. Jim grabbed a knife and fork off the drying rack and added them to the plate. He held it out to Ross, watching him. Ross reached out slowly and took it. 

‘Wait.’ Jim said then quickly poured a mug of coffee, added sugar and then handed it to him as well. 

‘Thank you.’ Ross said, and it sounded like he was about to cry to Jim’s ears.

‘You’re welcome.’ he replied. Ross turned and left the room, and Jim waited until he heard the door slam upstairs before letting go and leaning against the sink with his head down, fighting back tears that had been threatening ever since he'd seen the sad shadow of the man he loved so desperately at the front door.


	7. My Life Would Suck Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from My Life Would Suck Without You by Kelly Clarkson

It had been two weeks since Jim had arrived and he wasn’t ashamed to say that he was already at his wits’ end. He wanted to scream, wanted to throw things. Anything that would get a reaction. He’d never in his life been this pissed off, this frustrated with anyone. But, like the good carer that he was, he kept his mouth shut and his temper under wraps. Ross was driving him to drink. Literally. He didn’t think he’d be the kind of person that needed alcohol to calm himself down at the end of an evening but he fucking needed it at the moment. He’d even started smoking again, after a six year dry period. 

Ross was grumpy, broody, depressed as fuck and struggling with his demons so obviously that all Jim wanted to do was hold him and keep the darkness at bay. He would have, if Ross would bloody let him in. But he wouldn’t. Ross had refused to even acknowledge his presence two days before. 

Jim understood. He knew that turning up, even though he’d been invited, was a massive shock for Ross to cope with. He also knew now that the email full of desperate words and feelings was something that Ross had never meant for him to see. So while he knew that Ross needed him there, they were never allowed to talk about it, so they had been dancing around each other in a strange pattern of unfamiliarity and discomfort. All their previous physical intimacy had been lost, as Ross treated him no better than an irritating room-mate.

And he was still sleeping in Carter’s room.

So Jim did what he did when he was stressed and stayed in full on cleaning mode. He’d gone from top to bottom and every surface was now clean enough to eat off of. Except Ross’ room. Jim had not gone in there. It hurt too much to even contemplate.

But a man could only take so much before he snapped.

Now he was watching Ross eat the dinner he’d made in the reflection of the kitchen window, with a grudging look on his face no less. As usual it was done in complete silence. Jim sighed and turned back to the coffee pot, rinsing it under the tap and then sticking it in the drying rack.

‘Are you going to Tedworth tomorrow?’ he asked, more for something to say rather than anything else. He knew Ross’ schedule by heart now. He also knew that one of the reasons for Ross’ sullen behaviour this evening was because he had a session with Warleggan the next day.

Jim was starting to have serious doubts about the therapist that Ross was seeing. Having gone through grievance counselling with his mother and on his own when his father died, Jim knew that Ross coming back even more keyed up and aggressive than when he’d left was not a good sign. But Ross was so touchy at the moment that he hesitated to bring it up.

There was no answer behind him and Jim turned to see Ross staring at his plate, lost in whatever place he went to when he got like this. Jim was at used to this. His mother had done the same.

‘Ross.’ he said and Ross started from hearing his name.

‘What?’ he asked, and Jim could hear the ripple of irritation. Jim wanted to snap back at him, but instead he internally counted to ten and then repeated the question.

‘I asked if you’re going to Tedworth tomorrow.’ He said and Ross shrugged.

‘You know I am.’ he replied and Jim gritted his teeth at the dismissive tone.

‘I can take you if you like.’ he said, ‘That way I can go to the shop while you’re there.’

‘Whatever.’ Ross said, still not actually looking at him. ‘I can get the bus.’

‘You don’t have to get the bus.’ Jim said. He could feel a tiny flicker of a headache starting behind his eyes. ‘I am happy to take you there, you know that.’

‘I’m not a fucking child, Jim.’ Ross snapped suddenly, his eyes coming up and glaring at Jim. The hazel was dark and angry. ‘I can take the fucking bus. I don’t need you to hold my bloody hand wherever I go.’

‘I never said that you were a child and I certainly haven’t asked you to hold my fucking hand.’ Jim snapped back, control momentarily forgotten. ‘Not that you fucking would anyway.’ He had to turn away so that Ross wouldn’t see the hurt in his eyes. Jim knew he wore every emotion openly. One of the most difficult things to take was that Ross could see how much it hurt when he snapped at Jim but he still did it. 

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ Ross asked, his voice stretched and angry. Jim dropped his head and closed his eyes.

‘Nothing.’ he said. He hadn’t meant to say anything about their lack of physical intimacy, but the words had just come out. ‘Forget it.’ He straightened up and then walked out of the kitchen.

He went out onto the front step, retrieving the cigarettes and lighter from his back pocket. He shook one out, lit it and inhaled deeply. He was bitterly disappointed with himself for taking it up again, but he honestly didn’t know how he would have coped if he hadn’t started smoking again.

He was about three drags in when the front door opened. He didn’t look at Ross, just handed over the pack and lighter. It had become something of an after dinner ritual for both of them, standing out in the night air smoking together. But, of course, this was also done in silence.

‘I could use a lift.’ Ross eventually said ‘And I’ll do the dishes tonight.’ Jim relaxed a little. He knew this was as close as an apology as he was likely to get. They finished their cigarettes and Jim went into the living room with his tea and a couple of chocolate digestives to watch TV, leaving Ross to clean up. He flicked through the channels, finding a documentary on the History channel about Second World War destroyers and settled in to watch.

It was interesting and Jim was starting to get into it when there was a loud crash from the kitchen. He was up off the sofa in a second and ran into the kitchen to find Ross swearing loudly and the coffee pot shattered on the floor. Jim stared at the shards of glass scattered on the floor, and then his instincts kicked in and he went to start picking the larger shards up.

Unfortunately, Ross had the same idea.

It was the first bit of proper physical contact they’d had with each other in two weeks and it resulted in a pair of bumped heads. Ross had been moving at a faster speed and his greater height meant that he caught Jim at an odd angle and Jim went down on his backside. He managed to avoid getting stuck in the arse, but his right hand flew out to catch himself and there was a searing flash of pain as he landed on a piece of glass.

He didn’t say anything, too surprised to react. Instead he lifted his hand and looked stupidly at the the small shard protruding from the pad just below his thumb. It wasn’t that deep but it hurt like a bitch and he took a sharp breath. He looked up into Ross’ startled hazel eyes and then watched in amazement as Ross’ face changed to anger.

‘For fuck’s sake Jim!’ he shouted. ‘I fucking had it!’ The words were loud and harsh in the silence of the kitchen and they startled Jim out of his carefully maintained calm.

‘Then fucking do it yourself!’ he shouted back and he saw Ross’ expression change from anger to shock and then back to anger again.

‘I would but you keep fucking hanging over me like a fucking motherfucking hen!’ he retorted. ‘I don’t need your fucking help!’ 

Ross’s voice was edging towards a sharp pitch that inexplicably made Jim angrier. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to get up and have a go at the man in front of him that up until three months ago he was declaring undying love to.

‘Yes, I can see that.’ he snapped back. ‘That’s why the fucking coffee pot is currently on the floor and in my fucking hand!’ As soon as he said the words, he regretted them. Especially when he saw that Ross’ face had fallen. He clearly hadn’t noticed that Jim had been hurt.

They stayed like that, just looking at each other. Then Ross stepped forward, glass crunching under his trainers and held out a hand to him. But, Jim was so angry that he waved him off, scrambling to his feet by himself.

‘I’m fine.’ he said, his voice flat and just like that, the anger was back.

‘Well, if you didn’t treat me like a bloody invalid this wouldn’t have happened!’ Ross hissed at him. Jim considered his response and the million ways he could defuse the situation.

‘Fuck you, Ross.’ he spat. He was too tired, his temper too short for tact and understanding. ‘If you weren’t acting like such a fucking martyr and let me fucking help you once in a while …’ he trailed off. ‘Christ why am I even talking to you about this. You’re going to do what you’ve done for the last three months and fucking shut me down.’ He moved past Ross to the sink, turned on the tap and watched as the collected blood started to wash away. He didn’t want to look around, but he could hear Ross’ quick inhalation.

‘I didn’t fucking ask you to come.’ he said, and his voice was icy.

‘Yes, you fucking did.’ Jim replied, gingerly probing around the piece of glass. ‘You and I both know that, even if you want to deny it. You needed me here and you wrote those words, even if you didn’t mean to send them.’ He got hold of the glass and pulled, catching his breath at the pain and also at the fresh spurt of blood. ‘Fuck…’ He bowed his head, suddenly feeling utterly defeated. ‘I wanted to come because you were in pain and I needed to help you.’

‘I don’t need your help.’ Ross replied, and he sounded as weary as Jim felt. ‘And I don’t need your fucking pity. I’m not some charity case.’ He still hadn’t moved and when Jim looked at him over his shoulder he saw that Ross’ eyes were downcast.

‘You’re not a charity case.’ he said, and his voice was quieter. ‘And I didn’t come here out of pity.’ He sighed and opened the drawer next to him, fishing out a clean dish towel and wrapping it around his hand, putting pressure on the cut. ‘I came here because I love you.’ The next words though shocked him so badly that he did turn around and look at Ross.

‘You can’t.’ Ross said in a voice that was so full of dejection that it physically made Jim’s heart hurt to hear it.

‘What do you mean I can’t?’ he asked. ‘It was my bloody choice to come here.’

‘No.’ Ross said insistently. Jim had never heard someone sound so unhappy before. ‘You can’t love me.’

‘What the fuck are you on about?’ he asked. Ross raised his head, dark eyes shiny with tears.

‘I’m fucking broken, Jim.’ he said. ‘I can’t do anything anymore. I can’t even fucking wash dishes without screwing it up. And I look like…’ he couldn’t even get out the words. ‘How could you possibly love me like this?’ 

Jim’s first reaction was to laugh. It was absurd to him that Ross would think that he wouldn’t love him anymore because of what he looked like or because he couldn’t do anything. Then the realisation hit him. This whole time he’d thought that Ross was keeping him at arm’s length because Ross didn’t want him around. It had never crossed his mind that Ross was trying to push him away because he thought Jim was only here out of obligation. That in fact Ross was worried that he wasn’t wanted anymore.

‘You absolutely idiotic wanker.’ he shouted, quite a bit louder than he meant to, and he could see Ross flinch back from his words. ‘Why the fuck would I take two months off and fly halfway around the fucking world - and I fucking HATE planes - and put myself through all the shit you’ve given me in the last two weeks if I didn’t fucking love you?’ Jim’s voice was ringing through kitchen, but he was past the point of caring about volume. He was seething. All of the trouble, all of the frustration they’d had in the past weeks had all come from this? Jim’s anger sharpened. They’d fucking had this conversation already. He’d made sure of it. ‘I told you when I walked in the fucking door that I came because you needed me!’

‘Yes, but that’s because you’re this really nice person!’ Ross shouted back, with a brittle edge to his voice. ‘You would do that because it would be the right thing to do! You’re just fucking good! And I wrote that stupid email and you were never meant to see it and the last thing I wanted to do was fuck up your life, like that tosser you used to be with!’

‘You have not fucked up my life!’ Jim roared at him. ‘How many fucking times to I have to say it, or do I have to push you down the fucking stairs to knock some sense into that ridiculously thick skull of yours?’ He was so angry now that he was shaking. ‘My life would be infinitely more fucked up without you in it!’ He looked at Ross expecting another outburst and bracing for it. ‘And as for what you look like, I don’t care. You could have come back in pieces and I would still bloody fancy the pants off you. The hardest part of all this has been trying to keep away from you, to not touch you. Christ knows I want to.’

‘How can you say that?’ Ross’ head was down.

‘What?’ That I still think you look amazing, that I still want to fuck you all the bloody time?’ Jim asked. ‘Because it’s you. I love you, Ross. I want you.’ He waited for Ross to do wat e had done the last two weeks and shut down or leave the room. Maybe he’d get lucky and actually get a fight out of him, something, even if it was just a sharp word.

It never came.

What he got was Ross coming towards him at speed (not bad for a guy with a still healing fracture he would say later), grabbing him by the t-shirt and kissing him.

It was like opening the floodgates. Jim kissed him back frantically with his hands going to Ross’ hair, now longer and so much easier to get a hold of, tugging and running his fingers through it. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed that simple contact, but that thought was rapidly overtaken by the immediacy of Ross backing him up against the sink and pinning him there. They eventually broke apart, breathless and both a little startled by what had just happened. 

Ross tried to move back, and Jim could see the panic in his hazel eyes. He got one hand round the back of his neck and held him there.

‘No.’ he breathed, ‘You’re not doing that. You’re not getting away from me.’ He pulled Ross back in and kissed him again. Ross didn’t resist and Jim pushed it further, tongue nudging at Ross’ mouth until he opened it and responded. When Ross gave a little gasp Jim’s heart leapt in his chest and he held on tighter. Ross suddenly growled and reached for Jim, getting him under the thighs and picking him up, dumping him on the sink. Jim knew that was probably going to end in tears and more broken glass but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was kissing Ross and Ross was kissing him back.

It got more desperate, then Ross moved against him in just the right way and Jim could feel that Ross was hard. It made him all kinds of crazy and Jim hooked his legs around Ross’ hips and tugged him closer. Ross had his hands on his backside now and he pulled Jim up against him, breaking away from his mouth to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. There were no words between them, just tight grips and harsh breaths. Jim clutched at Ross’s hair with one hand, the other grabbing hold of the back of Ross’s shirt and hanging on as tightly as he could. He let his head fall back, Ross’s mouth warm and wet on his skin. He didn’t dare speak, not wanting to break the spell, not trusting himself to say the right thing. Ross’ tongue moved against his pulse and Jim moaned, not able to help himself. Ross pulled back and Jim looked into his eyes and there was a singular moment when it felt like they were staring right into each other. Jim couldn’t speak, even though everything he wanted to say was right there on the tip of his tongue.

Then Ross took his face in his hands and rested their foreheads together.

‘I love you.’ he breathed, the words so soft they were almost inaudible. ‘I love you.’ 

Then Ross was kissing him again and Jim felt hands on the hem of his t-shirt. He lifted his arms without prompting and Ross pulled it up and over his head and Jim shivered at the feeling of his calloused hands on his skin. He kept his eyes closed, just wanting to absorb every touch and feeling. But then Ross had his hand on him and he arched up against it, his breathing coming hard and fast.

‘Yes.’ he breathed, ‘Ross, please...’ Ross groaned in his ear and the hand was under the waistband of his sweats, finding him and taking hold of him until Jim could hear himself keening loudly. It felt so good and all he wanted was to have Ross on him and in him, taking over and obliterating everything that had passed between them in the last two weeks. He reached for Ross’ shirt, pulling it up, knuckles grazing the soft skin of his flanks and ribs until it was off and then there was the heated slide of skin against skin, and they both pulled each other in until they were almost like one person, mouths locked and hands everywhere.

Jim was vaguely aware of the hazards that what they were doing on the sink could present, but then Ross just fucking growled at him again and it felt like his brain melted. Then he was sliding back onto the sink, with Ross’s hand back on his cock, and he instinctively reached back to steady himself. Unfortunately his hand collided with the dish rack he’d just been thinking about and there was a resounding crash as it fell to the kitchen floor with all its contents.

That stopped them in their tracks and they both looked down at the scene of destruction.

‘Fuck.’ Ross said.

‘Can’t blame that one on me.’ Jim said. ‘I take no responsibility for my actions when you’ve got your hand on my cock.’ 

Ross looked back at him with a look of complete disbelief. Then he did the most miraculous thing.

He started laughing.

Jim caught his breath. He couldn’t help but feel like it was water breaking through a dam, and after the months of distance, and the struggle of the past fortnight, it was hands down the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard. It was real and so contagious that Jim started laughing as well. They were both giggling like small children until they had to hang on each other for support. 

‘Jesus Christ.’ Jim said when he eventually managed to get himself under control. He looked at Ross, whose face was still lit from the echoes of mirth. ‘It’s so wonderful to hear you laugh. I fucking missed that.’ 

Ross sighed and then raised one hand to Jim’s face, thumb tracing along his cheekbone just like Jim had always done to him .

‘I missed you.’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry for being-’

‘No.’ Jim interrupted him, hand coming up to cover his. ‘Not tonight. There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now I just want you to be with me.’ He leaned forward and kissed Ross again and then the heat was back, surging inside him until he felt like he was going to burst into flames if he didn’t do something about it. ‘Just be with me.’ he repeated and then Ross took him by the hips and pulled him against him.

‘We should go upstairs.’ he said and Jim shook his head.

‘I’m not fucking waiting.’ he said, hand working its way under the waistband of Ross’ own sweats and finding him. ‘I’ve waited four fucking months for this. I want you now.’ He grasped Ross firmly, feeling the velvety hardness against his hand, and stroked. Ross moaned and dropped his head to Jim’s shoulder, mouth against the skin and teeth biting gently. His own hand was back, copying Jim’s movements until Jim couldn’t stand it anymore.

‘Top cupboard.’ he said and Ross pulled back to frown at him. ‘After last time, I thought it was a good idea.’

Ross leaned across to the top cupboard next to the sink and opened it.

‘At the back.’ Jim said, not releasing his grip on him.

‘Fuck.’ Ross said, stretching as far as he could without letting go himself. There was a scrabble of fingers and then he came back with the bottle of lube that had been stashed there. ‘Bloody hell, I didn’t even know this was there.’

‘That’s because I didn’t tell you. It was going to be a surprise.’ Jim laughed. Ross let him go and Jim lifted his hips just enough for Ross to pull his pants down and off, losing his trainers and socks along the way. He leaned back again, and Ross came back in, lifting one leg up so Jim’s calf lay against his shoulder and Jim had to brace himself back against the sink with both hands. He kept his eyes on Ross, watching him pop to top on the lube and coat his fingers in it. Then Ross moved even closer and he leaned forward over Jim, his left hand on the sink next to Jim’s right. He was so close that Jim could count the green flecks in his eyes and then Ross smiled at him, and Jim smiled back.

‘I hope you remember how to do this, Captain.’ he said and Ross brushed his fingers against him and the gentle touch made Jim throw his head back and moan. Ross chuckled and lowered his mouth to Jim’s collarbone, biting along it.

‘I think I just might, Lieutenant.’ He murmured, words partially muffled by Jim’s skin and then the first one was inside, moving just slowly enough to be torturous.

‘Oh God…’ Jim said. ‘Okay I think I believe you.’ He pushed back into Ross’ hand, the feeling heady. ‘Oh fuck, that’s good…’ He couldn’t help it, it had been so long since they had done this, and he was already getting close to the edge, his panting getting louder and faster, especially when Ross added the second finger, making him moan.

‘Jesus, you have to shut up, Jim.’ he said. ‘I’m going to fucking come all over the place if you keep making noises like that.’

‘Sorry.’ Jim breathed, barely able to even function at that point. ‘It’s just…Oh Christ, right there.’ He gasped as Ross’ fingertips found his prostate. ‘Oh fucking hell…’ He managed to get himself under control enough to grab Ross’ wrist with one hand. ‘Enough. I want you inside me.’

‘But…’ Ross started to protest and Jim gripped his wrist so hard he knew he’d leave bruises.

‘Now, Ross.’ he said in a tone that left no room for argument. Ross pulled his fingers out of him and Jim sat up, grabbing the lube and emptying it into his palm. Ross had shoved his sweats down and Jim reached for his exposed cock, working the lube along it until Ross was leaning against him, his own moans now as strident as Jim’s had been. Then he reached for the leg resting against his shoulder, bringing it down and hooking Jim’s knee over his elbow. Jim leaned back once more, the lubed hand a little slippery, but he finally managed to wedge himself into position. Then Ross lined himself up and pushed in and his whole world went white hot and the blood roared in his ears.

Jim was tight after the long period of enforced absence and he hadn’t allowed nearly enough time for Ross to work him open, so that first thrust burned. He must have gasped loudly because Ross stopped, his hazel eyes full of concern. Jim reached up with his clean hand, grabbing him by the hair at the back of his head.

‘Don’t fucking stop.’ he hissed and then he tilted his hips and locked his free leg around Ross and pulled and Ross went all the way in. His moan as their bodies connected made Jim’s head swim. They stayed like that for a few moments, eyes locked.

‘Tell me again.’ Jim said, wanting, needing to hear it. Ross’ face was serious when he answered.

‘I love you.’ he said, and Jim sighed deeply. He pulled Ross down to him, kissing him softly.

‘Yes.’ he breathed into Ross’ mouth. ‘Again.’ He shifted his hips and Ross caught his breath as he was pushed back.

‘I love you.’ he breathed thrusting in, and Jim moved to meet him in a perfect counterpoint.

‘Again.’ he whispered. Ross had his hand on the sink next to his and their fingers linked just enough to connect them.

‘I love you.’ Ross moaned and then his thrusts started to pick up pace and Jim had to dig his nails into Ross’ neck, the intensity between them building to the point where it almost hurt to look at each other. But they didn’t let go and their eyes stayed locked.

‘Again.’ Jim said, his voice starting to get high and desperate. ‘Please, Ross…’

‘I love you.’ Ross said, voice getting stronger with every thrust. ‘I love you…I love you…’ It was like a prayer, and he repeated it again and again as he drove into Jim, until they were clinging desperately to each other, commingled cries getting louder and louder.

The end came quickly for both of them, Ross going first with a shout and Jim following as he felt Ross come inside him, his own release painting Ross’ chest in white. Then there was just the sound of their discordant breathing, but they still would not let each other go. They simply looked at each other, both taking the other in as much as they could. Then Jim smiled, dimples flashing at Ross like a homing beacon.

‘You arse.’ he said, voice shaking with emotion. ‘I love you back.’ He looked down at the shattered crockery on the floor. ‘Christ, we really know how to make a production out of things.’

‘I could always carry you out of here?’ Ross grinned. Jim gave him a stern look.

‘No.’ he said. ‘Not in your condition. But we do need to move before I get sink marks permanently etched on my backside.’ He moved so Ross could ease out of him and then step back, leaving Jim sitting on the sink. Ross bent down and grabbed his discarded t-shirt, cleaning himself off and then pulling his pants back up. Jim watched with an amused expression as Ross contemplated the floor then grabbed the broom from behind the kitchen door.

‘Okay this is just surreal.’ he laughed. ‘I’m sitting naked in the sink and you’re going to sweep the floor.’ 

‘I don’t want you to get your feet cut.’ Ross said. He managed to sweep most of the broken ceramic and glass to the side, enough to make a path for Jim to walk through. When he’d finished, he stepped aside and made a grand gesture with one hand. ‘Lieutenant.’ Jim gave him a brilliant smile. ‘What?’

‘That.’ Jim replied. ‘You’ve got your fight back. I was really worried that you’d had it knocked out of you. I’m so incredibly happy that you haven’t.’ Their eyes locked and Ross dropped the broom and walked over to Jim, arms going around him and kissing him with all the pent up longing he’d had for the last four months.

‘I would love to pick you up and throw you over my shoulder, but I’m in kind of a delicate physical state.’ he said. 

‘You did get blown up by an RPG.’ Jim said, both hands at the back of Ross head. His smile faltered ‘I was so worried. Hearing that almost made my heart stop.’ He looked into Ross’ hazel eyes. ‘I don’t think I could live without you anymore.’ 

‘I’m sorry for being such a tosser about the whole thing.’ Ross said, leaning his forehead against Jim’s. ‘I needed you so badly, but…’ He sighed and closed his eyes, fighting for the right words. ‘I didn’t want you back for this. I wanted you back for me. Because I love you and I want to be with you, but I needed to know that you wanted to be with me for me and not because I was injured.’ He opened his eyes again and saw Jim looking at him intently. 

‘I am here because I want to be here, with you. And I will be here as long as you want me to be.’ he said, leaning forward and kissing him softly, just once. Then he gave Ross that wonderful crooked smile that made his heart jump. ‘Now can I please get off the fucking sink?’

***********

They didn’t leave Ross’ bed for the next twelve hours. At the end all they could do was lie there, utterly spent and covered in more bodily fluids than could ever be considered sanitary. 

‘I don’t think I’m going to Tedworth today.’ Ross said. He was flat on his back, arms spread and eyes closed, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon, his body shiny with sweat and chest hair matted with cum. Jim laughed and lifted himself as gently as possible off of him and then fell down by his side. 

‘Your session’s only at one.’ he said. ‘We can sleep for a couple of hours.’ 

‘Fuck it.’ Ross said. ‘I’m not going in, they can reschedule me for tomorrow.’ he opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, leaning on one elbow and his other hand going to rest on Jim’s own heaving chest, feeling the rabbit fast heart beat under his hand starting to steady and slow down. Jim smiled at him. Ross’ overly long hair was a mess of damp, sweaty tangles and he pushed it back out of his eyes.

‘You need a hair-cut, Poldark.’ he said. 

‘I know.’ Ross replied, waiting for Jim’s fingers to drift down his face and then kissing them. ‘I need to do a lot of things. But not today.’ He leaned down and kissed Jim. ‘Today is us. Nobody else.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ Jim replied. ‘But we really do need to go to the shop. And do laundry. This bed was a state before we even got into it.’ 

‘Fucking Navy.’ Ross said and rolled back onto his back.

*************

They finally got up around eleven, and Ross called in to Tedworth House, changing his session times to the following day. After eating the last of the cereal in the cupboard, they had both made a list of things that needed to be done. Jim had gone to the shop and Ross took the opportunity to strip his bed and put on clean bedding and air out his room. An hour later he was making his way downstairs and couldn’t resist burying his nose in the dirty sheets, the overwhelming smell of sex making him smile. He got everything bundled into the washing machine, switched it on and then the phone rang. He didn’t even think before going to answer it.

‘Poldark.’ Warleggan’s clipped Oxbridge tones came through the receiver like nails on a blackboard. It made Ross’ hackles go up instantly. ‘You haven’t deigned to join me for your session.’

‘Yes, I know.’ he replied, trying to keep his voice even. ‘I did ring.’

‘I see that.’ Warleggan said airily, ‘However, you know that my schedule is quite full. I can’t simply pencil you in at your convenience.’ 

‘In that case it may be better to cancel the session then.’ he said. 

‘That is not an option, Poldark.’ Warleggan said, his voice unchanged. He sounded almost bored. ‘Tomorrow, or I shall have to put this in the report.’

Ross grit his teeth to bite back the urge to tell him where to get off. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Excellent.’ Warleggan said. ‘I expect to see you on time.’ He didn’t say goodbye, simply disconnected the call.

‘Fucking bloody bastard.’ Ross swore at the receiver just as the front door opened and Jim came in weighted down with Bags for Life.

‘Take it that was not good news.’ he said, kicking the door closed with one foot and going into the kitchen. Ross followed him, glowering. He watched as Jim dumped everything on the table and started unpacking, chucking things at Ross to put away in the cupboards behind him, while he tackled the fridge.

‘It was Warleggan, bitching at me for missing my session.’ he said. Jim kept his face carefully neutral. He didn’t like the sound of Ross’ therapist but he hadn’t said anything, preferring to let Ross blow off steam about him. ‘I have to go in tomorrow morning.’ He gave Jim a crooked smile. ‘Bed’s clean. Want to go fuck it up?’ 

‘Christ.’ Jim laughed. ‘Can I at least put the fucking groceries away first?’ 

‘No.’ Ross said. He went over to Jim, herding him in front of him as they left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

*************

The next day Ross was up early. A twenty-four hour period of relentless sex, an extended dinner and two bottles of wine had done for him what two months of army therapy hadn’t managed to do and made him feel like himself again. 

He got out of bed carefully so as not to wake Jim who was curled up like a kitten. He headed downstairs to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and then looked at himself in the mirror while he waited for the water to heat up. For the first time he didn’t hate the person he saw looking back at him. On impulse he ran his hand over the beard he’d grown in the last months and then made a decision. He dug around in the cupboard underneath the basin, coming out with shaving gel and razor and took it into the shower with him.  
When he got out, the beard was gone and so was the crushing numbness he’d felt getting up every morning since he’d woken up in the field hospital. In its place was a strange feeling of lightness, and an alertness. It was almost as if he’d just woken up from a very long and unpleasant sleep. When he got back upstairs, Jim was barely awake. He gave Ross a bleary look over the edge of the duvet.

‘You look good.’ was all he said and then he got up and headed out the room to go shower. 

Ross went to his wardrobe. He normally went in to Tedworth’s in his civilian clothes, not really bothering with formalities. But he felt like he needed to pick up his life again, and the previous night had made him feel so much better about himself. He got dressed, taking care to make sure his uniform was immaculate. When Jim got back, he didn’t comment, but Ross could see the approval in his eyes. 

Once Jim was also dressed they went downstairs. After breakfast and teeth brushing they both went out to the car. Jim opened the door for him and Ross hauled himself into the passenger seat, grumbling about how he would never get the seat adjustment right again now that Jim had changed it to accommodate his shorter legs.

‘Stop moaning.’ Jim said, ‘Most people would love to be chauffeured around for two months.’ 

‘Yes, but not if it means it looks like a fucking dwarf has been driving their car.’ Ross said, and winced as Jim gave him a none too gentle smack on the arm. ‘Actually you kind of look like that one...you know, the blond one.’

‘Fuck you, Poldark.’ Jim said. ‘I am way better looking.’ 

They bickered companiably all the way to Tedworth House and Jim pulled up in the visitor’s parking to let Ross out. Ross got down and then seemed to be considering something.

‘You want to come in?’ he asked, and Jim raised both eyebrows at him.

‘Seriously?’ he asked. They both knew that the SOP for this was he dropped Ross off, usually with a face like thunder, and then picked him back up again for the drive home in terse silence. 

‘You might was well see the hell I’m trapped in.’ Ross said, and Jim had a feeling he was only half joking.

‘All right.’ he said. ‘Go and I’ll catch up with you.’ Ross nodded and headed up the path. He could see two women standing at the side door he was headed for, enjoying the sunshine. They were physios from the rehab clinic and he knew them both. They waved as he approached, the taller of the two giving him a wolf whistle.

‘My, my Captain Poldark.’ she said. ‘Don’t you scrub up nicely?’ Ross returned her smile.

‘Hi Julie.’ he said then turned to the other. ‘Ari.’ Ari, a beautiful British-Asian woman with black eyes gave him a little wave. 

‘So you’re back in uniform.’ she said. ‘Does that mean we have to salute?’ They were both Corporals.

‘No.’ Ross laughed. ‘I think we can let it slide just this once. I’m only dressed up because I have to go see Warleggan and I’m sick and tired of him looking at me like I should be on report.’

‘You and me both.’ Julie said. ‘Christ that man gets up my nose. Don’t you think?’ she said to Ari and then noticed that’ Ari’s attention was directed elsewhere. ‘Oi, I’m talking to you.’ 

‘Sorry, but there is a Code 3 headed this way.’ Ari said and nodded in the direction of the path leading from the car park.’

‘What the hell is a Code 3?’ Ross asked.

‘Hot civvie.’ Julie said. ‘Oh, yes. And he’s blond.’ Ross turned around and saw Jim coming up the path, his jeans and plaid shirt marking him out as non-army personnel . He smiled. Ordinarily he wouldn’t have said anything, but a light had gone on in his head the night before and he knew that he was ready. 

‘Sorry ladies.’ he said. ‘But I happen to know for a fact that he’s already taken.’ 

‘Isn’t that just typical.’ Ari sighed. ‘Who by?’ 

‘By me.’ Ross said and stifled a laugh at their shocked expressions. He waited for Jim to catch up, then pushed the door open for him and followed him inside.

‘What was all that about?’ Jim asked.

‘Just marking my territory.’ Ross said, and smiled at him. 

The tour through the building brought them up nicely to just before one. Ross pointed down the hall. 

‘Rec room and the canteen is that way if you want to stay. Otherwise I’ll be done in an hour.’ he said. Jim shrugged.

‘I’ll wait.’ he replied and Ross smiled.

‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re not just referring to the therapy?’ he said and Jim smiled back.

‘Because I’m not.’ he said. ‘I’ll see you in an hour.’ He turned and walked down the corridor and Ross watched him go. The he headed up to the second floor to where Warleggan’s consulting room was located. Before entering he straightened up and put his shoulders back, then knocked briskly.

‘Come.’ came the call from inside and he opened the door and stepped in.

*************

Jim wandered down to the canteen, got himself a cup of tea and sat down at a sunny table by the window. He got out his mobile and texted Rose. She answered within minutes and they chatted back and forth for a while. Then Jim noticed that he was being watched. He looked up and saw that it was the two woman from outside, whispering and giving him scrutinising looks. Eventually they seemed to come to some agreement and came over. 

‘Hi.’ the shorter one said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘Mind if we join you?’

‘Not at all.’ Jim said, a little bemused but pretty sure he knew where this was going, especially after Ross’ cryptic remark earlier. The taller one sat down as well.

‘So I’m Ari and this is Julie.’ The shorter one said. ‘You came in with Captain Poldark didn’t you?’ 

‘Yes, I did.’ Jim said, starting to smile. Oh, he definitely knew where this was going. 

‘So does that make you the boyfriend?’ Julie asked, grinning at him. 

‘What did he say?’ Jim countered and the two women looked at each other.

‘That we should keep our hands off because you’re taken.’ Ari said. 

‘Really?’ Jim said, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘By who exactly?’

‘By him.’ Julie said. 

‘Guess you’ve got your answer then.’ Jim said sipping his tea.


	8. Ho Hey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting better, bit by bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Ho Hey by the Lumineers

It had been a week since Ross had taken those fateful steps and crossed the kitchen to Jim. In retrospect they were the most important steps Ross knew he had ever taken. And the difference in him since he’d done it and let Jim back into his heart, his bed and his life had been nothing short of remarkable.

He was nowhere near back to full capacity but he was on the upward swing. Jim was a slave driver when it came to his rehabilitation, almost as bad as the physios. He chased Ross out of bed in the mornings, making him take the short walk down the street, through the park that ran along the river and to the corner shop, usually to buy stocks of chewing gum (Jim had made them both quit smoking again) and chocolates. Ross would never have believed how much of a sweet tooth his boyfriend had unless he hadn’t witnessed it first-hand but Jim consumed chocolate by the ton.

It should have been frightening how quickly they had gone back to where they were before, that wonderful happy place where nothing existed for them outside of each other. But Ross had faced a lot of fears in the last four months and he knew that the best way to banish them now was to turn towards the blinding sun at the centre of his universe and to hang onto the man he loved more than anything else and let him chase his shadows away. But that could only be while they were inside the house, lost in each other and Ross now always felt a little resentful at having to get up and leave the rediscovered safety of Jim’s arms.

Especially after mornings like this.

And that’s when he saw it, the sign-up sheet that was pinned to the notice board in the corridor just down from Warleggan’s office. Ross wouldn’t even have noticed it if he hadn’t needed to stop and get his temper under control after leaving his session. But there he was and right in front of his face was the piece of paper.

_Partners Group Session._

Ari had told him about this while she was putting him through his paces a few days earlier. It was run for the partners of servicemen and women to give them an opportunity to participate in a session with the soldiers they were involved with. It was an introduction to the kind of therapy the soldiers were having as part of their treatment for PTSD. A place where a no pressure interaction could happen as a way of sharing some of the trauma and in an atmosphere that was considerably more informal than a one to one session.

It had slipped his mind though. There were lot of things preoccupying him after his session that day and he’d blanked it from his memory. But now that he was looking at it, he suddenly had the thought that that was what he needed. He always felt backed into a corner by Warleggan, like a boxer on the ropes, being constantly knocked off his feet just as he was getting up. And what was missing was the person in his corner, his person. His Jim, who had been so good at getting him back up on his feet in the last three weeks. Jim who had been so patient and understanding and always just there.

Maybe it was time to open up a little more and let him in a little deeper.

He reached for the pencil attached the notice board and wrote his name on the list. Then he left the corridor and went down the main staircase and down to the side door.

Punctual as always, Jim was waiting for him in the car park. Ross got in and tugged on his seatbelt, fastening it and sitting back with a sigh.

‘You okay?’ Jim asked and he shrugged.

‘We’ll see later.’ Ross said. Then he turned and looked at Jim. ‘Can we go somewhere for a bit?’ Jim gave him a half smile.

‘Anywhere in particular?’

‘I don’t care.’ said Ross. ‘Just away from here.’

They ended up at Maiden Castle. Jim parked and they got out, taking a slow walk up the causeway. It was a gentle incline, just enough to give Ross a workout but not so steep that it would cause pain. The wind was up and Ross’ dark hair was blowing in his eyes. He pushed it back and saw Jim looking at him intently.

‘It was bad today, wasn’t it?’ he asked and Ross’ first instinct was to deny the fact that he had left Warleggan’s office feeling so much worse than when he went in. But they had agreed that he would tell Jim what he was feeling, even if the feeling was about them.

‘Yes, it was.’ Ross said. He shrugged. ‘It’s just I feel like sometimes I take one step forward and then he pushes me three steps back.’ He looked at Jim and saw he was biting at his bottom lip. Ross had learned that this was one of Jim’s tells. ‘Spit it out, Jim.’

‘It’s just that maybe he’s not the right person.’ Jim said. ‘I honestly don’t know what their procedure is, but like I said before I’m pretty sure this is supposed to make you feel better, not worse.’

They were now making a slow circuit of the top of the fort and there was no-one else in sight. Jim reached for his hand and Ross let him take it. They didn’t often do this, but he felt safe up here, just the two of them, and when Jim linked their fingers together Ross didn’t resist. Jim’s hand was a solid lifeline back to sanity for him.

‘What was it like for you?’ Ross asked and felt Jim’s hand tighten around his for a second.

‘It hurt at first.’ Jim said, ‘But then it started to work. I honestly don’t think I would have made it out the other side without it. But grief counselling is different to what you’re going through. Our experiences are not the same.’

‘But it made you feel better?’ Ross sighed.

‘It did.’ Jim replied. ‘I don’t know, maybe you just have to give it time.’

They walked in silence until they got to the temple foundations. Then Ross stopped and pulled Jim towards him. Jim came easily, looking up at him. His eyes were darker in the slightly cloudy weather and he gave Ross a quizzical smile.

‘So there’s this thing.’ Ross said.

‘Yeah?’ Jim asked.

‘It’s kind of a group session.’ Ross said. ‘I may have signed us up for it.’

‘Like a family session?’ Jim asked. ‘That would be really good, I think.’

‘Not exactly.’ Ross said. ‘It’s for soldiers and their partners.’ He waited for Jim’s response anxiously and was pleased when he was given a bright dimpled smile and then Jim leaned up a little and kissed him.

‘I would be very happy to go with you, Captain Poldark.’ he said.

**********

The session was held two days later, at seven o’clock in the evening. This meant that most of the staff had gone home for the day and the main building was quiet when Jim and Ross entered Tedworth House.

They walked into the annex of the east wing. They were meeting in the large conference room at the rear and as they walked along the carpeted hallway, they noticed that there was a table set up outside the conference room doors. On it were a neat grid of name badges.

‘Oh, now this looks like fun.’ Jim grinned at Ross. ‘Judging from this we’re pretty early.’ There were only a few empty spots where badges had been taken. Ross smiled back at him and then scanned the table for his name badge, finding it and pinning it to his hoodie. He turned back to Jim to see him staring at the badge he held in his hand with an amused expression.

‘What?’ he asked and Jim chucked it to him. Ross read the name printed in elegant cursive on the white card.

‘Mrs Poldark?’ he asked, completely taken aback. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake. You can’t wear that.’

‘Guess you didn’t write down my name.’ Jim said.

‘There wasn’t a space for it, and honestly I didn’t even think.’ Ross said. ‘Christ, I’m so sorry.’

‘’Don’t apologise.’ Jim said. ‘It’s not your fault.’ He took back the badge and grinned at it. Then he looked back at the table. ‘I’m in good company though. Every other partner on here is a Mrs. Guess we don’t warrant first names.’ He started to pin the badge on his plaid shirt and Ross grabbed his wrist.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked. ‘We’ll get them to make you a new one, one that’s correct.’

‘Fuck that.’ Jim said, ‘I’m bloody wearing it.’ He pinned it securely and then hit Ross with his most wicked smile. ‘Besides, I think Mrs Poldark has a lovely ring to it, don’t you?’

‘Oh dear God.’ Ross shook his head. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Nonsense, it’s a stroke of sheer genius.’ Jim said cheerfully. ‘Now shut the fuck up and escort your lovely wife inside, Captain Poldark.’

They went in and saw that there three other couples already inside, all rocking a more traditional vibe. They were clustered around another table set up with cups and an urn and the makings of coffee and tea. There was a general survey of the new-comers and Ross saw more than one set of eyebrows go up.

‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.’ he said, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over him. Jim reached for his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly.

‘It’ll be fine, Ross.’ he said in a low voice. ‘They are here for the same reasons we are.’

‘Oh thank fuck.’ A voice said behind them and they both turned around. There was another couple standing behind them, white name badges pinned to their tops. The woman on the left was statuesque, her black hair short and neatly cropped. She turned to the petite blond English Rose next to her. ‘See, Bev?’ she said. ‘I told you we wouldn’t be the only queer couple here.’

‘At least your name badge has the correct gender.’ Jim said, and the black woman laughed.

‘That’s Warleggan for you. He’s not just a wanker but a sexist as well. The only reason I managed to get Bev back here after last time was because Ari said there was another gay couple coming.’ she said and held out a hand to Ross. ‘Captain Melissa Hammond, Dorset Rifles. This is my partner Beverly Grey.’

‘Captain Ross Poldark, Tank Regiment.’ Ross responded. ‘And this is…’

‘Mrs Poldark.’ Jim said grinning broadly and gesturing to his name badge.

‘Are you going to do that all night?’ Ross asked him, giving him a look.

‘Hell, yeah.’ Jim said. ‘All fucking night.’ He laughed at Ross’ unimpressed look.

************

Jim was true to his word and Ross got to the point where it stopped being horrendously embarrassing and started being extremely funny. The quizzical looks they had first gotten when they arrived proved to be nothing more than a false alarm, and the eight other couples turned out to be very nice and just like them as Jim had predicted. There was even a wonderful moment when all the partners who’d been before bitched about the fact that they were all reduced to their (in many cases erroneous) marital status.

‘Like we’re a bunch of WI Stepford Wives who swish around in fucking aprons, baking Victoria bloody sponges and having fainting fits.’ Karla grumbled. She was a Colombian woman who’d met her partner Owen on an online dating website for people in uniform. ‘I’m a bloody paramedic for fuck’s sake.’

‘How do you think I feel.’ Bev grumbled. ‘I got the treatment when I was last here just because I run a daycare centre. I think his words were something along the lines of ‘Well, we can see who the little woman is here.’. Arsehole.’ Jim grinned at Ross.

‘Looks like my assumptions are correct.’ he said. ‘That’s of course if I am allowed to speak my mind, being of a lesser mental capacity because I’m a woman according to what your therapist thinks.’

‘You are not a bloody woman.’ Ross said.

‘That’s not what my name badge says.’ Jim pointed out, eyes sparkling with mischief. Ross was about to retort when the conference room doors opened and a young woman came in. She was very striking, with long curly red hair tied up in a ponytail and very pale skin that contrasted beautifully with her blue eyes.

‘Can I have everyone’s attention, please?’ she called out and they all turned to look at her. ‘I am afraid that Captain Warleggan has been delayed so I am going to get us started tonight. I just need to grab some things and I’ll be right back.’’

‘Who’s that?’ Ross asked Mel in a low voice and she smiled.

‘That’s Demi.’ she replied. ‘Lieutenant Demelza Carne. She’s brilliant.’

‘Yeah.’ Owen said, an envious tone in his voice. ‘My mate’s got her and he says she’s a bloody miracle worker.’

‘Is she one of the therapists?’ Ross asked. ‘I haven’t seen her before.’

‘She’s only been here two weeks.’ Owen explained. ‘She was in London before. Christ, I wish I had her instead of Warleggan.’

‘You’re not the only one, love.’ Mel said with a sigh. They watched as Demelza came back into the room, carrying a large beach ball. She moved to the middle of the room.

‘All right.’ she said, her voice clear and carrying across the room. ‘I know that you are probably used to doing things a certain way with Captain Warleggan, but I am going to take us in a slightly different direction tonight. Please form a circle around me and we can get started.’ There was some murmuring from the assembled crowd but they did as she asked.

‘Right.’ she said. ‘Now we can start.’

*************

It wasn’t anything like Ross expected it to be. His sessions with Warleggan were so strictly structured and serious to the point of formality. But this was so different. They’d started with introductions, and Demelza insisted on first names only.

‘No demarcations or ranks.’ she had said. ‘In here we are just people.’

By the time Warleggan finally showed up, they were sitting on the floor. Demelza had put them together, the soldiers leaning back in their partners’ arms while they went through a series of breathing exercises. There were a couple of snorts of laughter at the similarity to birthing classes, but then they quietened down.

‘Touch is very important for mindfulness.’ Demelza said. ‘And a great deal of stress and anxiety can be mediated through its use.’ She was walking from pair to pair, dropping down into a crouch to speak to them as she passed. She got to Ross and Jim and sat down next to them.

‘You’re new.’ she said, her face stretched in a friendly smile.

‘Me, yes. Him not so much.’ Jim said, returning her smile. Demelza caught sight of the name badge on his chest and snorted with laughter.’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake.’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I do apologise for that. George never actually checks who the partner is. He just assumes that everyone is straight and married.’

‘Well, clearly we are neither.’ Ross said, not caring a bit about who heard him. Jim was a wonderful warm wall at his back and he was feeling calmer and more secure than he had in ages.

‘No.’ Demelza said. ‘And it’s a great pity that kind of thinking persists here. I know for a fact that you and Mel are not the only ones like you who are currently receiving treatment, but the attitude that prevails kind of scares people away.’ She nodded to Jim’s name badge. ‘I could get you a new one, if you like.’

‘It’s all right.’ Jim said. ‘I kind of like it.’ He gave Ross a dig in the ribs. ‘Although there’s bloody loads of you lot. Maybe you should take my name.’

‘Not bloody likely.’ Ross said. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and Demelza gave him an approving nod.

‘Good, Ross.’ she said. ‘You’re doing very well.’ She gave him a pat on the knee and got up and moved to the next pair.

‘See?’ Jim said in his ear. ‘You’re doing very well.’ His arms tightened around Ross just a fraction but was enough to make Ross smile. He was just thinking about how wonderful it would be to lie in Jim’s arms forever when the conference door slammed open.

‘Sorry I’m late everyone.’ Warleggan boomed as he came into the room, shedding his coat as he did so. ‘Bloody traffic was awful.’ The loud noise had pretty much startled the soldiers out of their calm states, and they were visibly tensing as he strode through the room, chucked his coat on a chair and turned to look at them.

‘Lieutenant?’ he asked. ‘May I enquire as to what exactly is going on here?’

‘Breathing exercises, sir.’ Demelza said, her face a picture of annoyance. ‘We were trying to get into a calm, relaxed state before moving onto the first activity.’ Her sarcasm seemed to be evident to everyone but Warleggan.

‘Yes, of course.’ he said cheerily. ‘Carry on.’ Demelza gave a very subtle roll of her eyes and addressed them.

‘Please, everyone. Back to what you were doing.’ she said, and there was a series of grumbles and shifting of positions.

‘Wanker.’ Mel muttered off to Ross and Jim’s right. Warleggan was now doing a slow circuit of the pairs, hands behind his back and a studious look on his face. He momentarily frowned as he walked past Mel and Bev, and Jim could just see Bev stick her tongue out at Warleggan’s back. He surpressed a smile. Then Warleggan came past him and Ross.

Jim felt Ross’ body tense up immediately and felt a rush of anger, but stamped it down quickly. Then he saw Warleggan do a visible double take and come back so he was standing next to them.

‘Poldark.’ he said, sounding annoyed. ‘This session was for enlisted and partners only. Not bring-your-mate-along night.’ Ross heaved a sigh, but didn’t look up at him.

‘I know that, sir.’ he said, his voice clipped and unhappy.

‘Then what on Earth is he doing here?’ Warleggan asked.

‘Lieutenant Hawkins **is** my partner, sir.’ Ross said, emphasising the word. ‘He’s on leave from HMS Dragon for a couple of months so we thought this would be a good idea.’ He flicked a look up at Warleggan, who flinched, and Jim would have bet good money that those beautiful dark eyes he loved so much were flashing a challenge.

‘Oh.’ Warleggan said, clearly at a loss. ‘I had no idea you had that sort of inclination.’

‘And what inclination would that be?’ Jim said, before he could stop himself.

‘The non-traditional kind.’ Warleggan said, but the way he said ‘non-traditional’ gave the words a whole other meaning. ‘If I had known I would have suggested a private session.’

‘A private session?’ Jim was quickly going from angry to livid with no stops in between. ‘Is that so the ‘normal’ couples don’t have to be subjected to our unnatural relationship?’ His voice was like ice and Ross looked back at him, his eyes widening.

‘Jim.’ he said. ‘It’s all right.’

‘No, it’s not bloody all right.’ Jim was glaring at Warleggan. ‘He’ll be lucky if I don’t cite him for homophobia.’

‘Now, Lieutenant.’ Warleggan said, taking a step back. ‘There’s no need for that.’

‘You’re right, there isn’t.’ Jim said. ‘So go away and bother someone else. We were doing just fine before you got here. From what I hear, your kind of therapy hasn’t been doing any good anyway and if I wanted to be patronised and discriminated against by an overeducated posh boy who’s never done a day on the frontline, unlike all of your patients including my partner, I would have joined your branch of the armed forces and not the Navy where a piece of paper from university means absolutely sod all if you don’t have the bottle to back it up with action or experience.’ His voice was perfectly level, a neutrally polite tone that managed to convey a world of contempt but his glare had lost none of its intensity and Warleggan, for once, seemed clueless on how to respond.

‘Very well.’ he said, pulling himself up straight. ‘Lieutenant Carne, I think it would be best of you work with Captain Poldark and his…partner.’ He moved on, going to the other side of the room. Ross twisted around completely so he could look at Jim.

‘Now, you’ve bloody done it.’ he hissed.

‘I don’t care.’ Jim’s voice was mutinous and the expression on his face was unrepentant. ‘He stopped you from smiling. Now, shut up and get back here where you belong.’ Ross recognised the words and the smile came back. He turned back around and settled into Jim’s arms once again.

************

The next morning Ross came back from his walk to find Jim on the phone as he came in the front door. The smell of frying bacon came from the kitchen and it made his stomach growl, a wonderful feeling after not having felt like he ever wanted to eat for weeks.

‘Actually your timing is impeccable.’ Jim said. ‘Captain Poldark has just walked in the door.’ He held out the cordless phone. ‘It’s Tedworth.’ Ross gave him a questioning look and took the phone. Jim raised his eyebrows and went into the kitchen.

‘Hello?’ he said.

‘Captain Poldark?’ A feminine voice said. ‘This is Gina, the therapy administrator.’

‘Hi Gina.’ Ross replied. He knew her and liked her but was thrown by the brisk tone of her voice. She sounded almost as if she wasn’t very happy and trying to hide it. He followed Jim into the kitchen and watched as Jim poured him a cup of coffee (having replaced the pot) and added sugar then handed it to him. Ross smiled at him and Jim smiled back, then turned and continued to cook breakfast. He gestured to the table and Ross went to sit down. ‘Is there a problem with my session today?’ She normally only called when Warleggan was running late.

‘Actually, it’s a little more complicated than that.’ Gina said. ‘I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, Captain Poldark, but Major Warleggan has decided that he can no longer continue to be your therapist. He’s asked you to be transferred to someone else.’ Ross stopped dead as he heard those words, cup halfway to his mouth.

‘Did he give a reason why?’ he asked. He heard Gina shift on the other side of the phone.

‘I probably shouldn’t tell you this.’ she said eventually, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. ‘But what happened at the group session last night has spread like wildfire.’

‘It has?’ Ross asked. Jim had taken the pan off the stove and was watching him, his face concerned. Ross shook his head at him and Jim’s eyes narrowed. Not looking at all convinced he turned back and reached for the bowl of mixed eggs and milk.

‘Yes. Everyone is talking about what your partner said to Major Warleggan. And,’ her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘if you and Lieutenant Hawkins decide to come to the Goat on Friday, there will be several people who will want to buy him a drink.’

‘Thank you.’ Ross said, feeling a little surge of pride. ‘I shall pass the message on. Now, do you know who my new therapist will be?’

‘Oh yes.’ Gina said. ‘You’ve been transferred to Lieutenant Carne.’

‘I have?’ Ross asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘Well, that’s good news.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Gina said. ‘So we’ll see you at one?’

‘Absolutely.’ Ross said. Gina said good bye and hung up and he looked at the phone and then at Jim, who had his back to Ross but was clearly listening to every word.

‘And?’ he asked.

‘Warleggan’s transferred to me to Demelza Carne.’ he said. Jim half turned.

‘That’s good news.’ he said, echoing what Ross had said. ‘Now maybe you can get some decent therapy.’ He came over with a plate of scrambled eggs bacon and toast and put it down in front of Ross before leaning down and kissing him on the mouth. ‘And good morning by the way.’ Ross grinned and put his arms around him, ignoring Jim’s protest and pulling him onto his lap and holding him there firmly.

‘Good morning back.’ he said, reaching up and pulling Jim back down to kiss him again.

‘You do realise your breakfast is getting cold.’ Jim said when Ross finally let him go.

‘Fuck it.’ Ross said. ‘I think I’d rather have you.’ He smiled at Jim and kept hold of him, and Jim shifted slightly so the pressure was off Ross’ bad leg.

‘Really?’ he asked and the dimples flashed at Ross. ‘What did you have in mind?’ He leaned back in, breath ghosting over Ross’ mouth. ‘We haven’t broken in the table yet.’

‘No. I’ve had this thing in my head ever since you came here that first weekend.’ Ross said, hazel eyes sparkling with intent. He shivered as Jim’s tongue traced his lower lip, then opened his mouth to accept it. Jim kissed him just the right side of hard, tongue brushing his own. Ross kissed back, cock hardening against the weight of Jim on his lap. Jim smiled against his mouth and moved off him, changing position so he was straddling Ross before sitting back down, arms around Ross’ neck. Ross grabbed him by the backside, pulling Jim down forcefully onto his lap so their cocks were rubbing against each other.

‘Fucking hell.’ Jim laughed. ‘I’m starting to think you’re feeling a whole lot better.’ His blue-green eyes were dancing with mischief. ‘So you want to tell me that thing you thought of the first time I came to visit you here.’ Ross grinned and looked past him. Jim followed his gaze. ‘The kitchen counter? Seriously?’

‘Very fucking seriously.’ Ross said, putting his nose in the crook of Jim’s neck to inhale his smell. Jim hadn’t showered yet and it was strong and soothing. ‘I want to fuck you up against it.’ Jim shivered as Ross kissed his neck.

‘We can do that.’ he replied, tilting his head to give Ross better access and catching his breath as Ross got his earlobe between his teeth and tongued it softly. ‘Jesus, okay scratch that. We are doing that.’ His hands were at the zip of Ross’ hoodie, undoing it and then pushing it off his shoulders. Ross shrugged it the rest of the way off, his own hands going under Jim’s t-shirt, tracing muscles and then letting his fingers dance lightly over Jim’s flanks, getting a yelp and a violent twisting away. ‘Bastard.’ he said, grabbing for Ross’ wrists. ‘That is dirty poker.’

‘All’s fair in love and fucking war, Lieutenant.’ Ross laughed, still tickling mercilessly. ‘I’m just using my strategic advantage.’

‘Well, your strategic advantage is going to get you a kick in the bollocks.’ Jim said, trying to sound affronted but failing miserably as he gasped with suppressed laughter. ‘Fucking hell, enough!’ He tried to wriggle away frantically, and almost got there but then lost his balance and slid off Ross’ lap and onto his arse on the kitchen floor. ‘Fuck, now look what you made me do.’ He looked up at Ross, his face a picture of happiness and Ross smiled back at him. He got up from the chair and held out his hand. Jim took it and Ross hauled him to his feet. They stood toe to toe and Ross leaned down, forehead resting against Jim’s.

‘I love you very much.’ he said. ‘Especially for what you said last night.’ He put both arms around Jim and pulled him close. Jim reached up with both hands, palms flat to Ross’ face.

‘I love you too.’ he replied. ‘And I only said what needed to be said. Nobody gets to hurt you on my watch. Nobody.’ Ross felt a rush of love and something else as well.

‘I find that protective streak of yours far more arousing than I should.’ he said. Jim raised an eyebrow.

‘Really?’ he asked, voice light and teasing. He reached down and put his hand on Ross’ cock. ‘Why yes, I do believe you do.’ Ross swallowed noisily as Jim’s hand tightened its grip.

‘So?’ he asked. ‘About my idea?’ Jim smiled and stepped back from him then turned and walked over to the kitchen counter, eyes challenging. When he got there he leaned back against it, hands spread to take his weight.

‘Like this?’ he asked. Ross looked him up and down.

‘Take your clothes off.’ he said and Jim smirked at him. He reached back and pulled his t-shirt over his head and then pushed his sweats down, kicking them off into the corner. Ross watched, eyes raking him from top to bottom and back again.

‘Now what?’ Jim asked, his hand dropping to his own cock, stroking lazily. Ross watched the sure movements of his hand, almost hypnotised.

‘Turn around.’ he said. Jim turned, casting a glance over his shoulder.

‘You planning on coming over here or are you just going to bark orders at me.’ he said, voice pitching low.

‘Actually.’ Ross said, walking forward a few steps. ‘I’m contemplating your arse. It is quite magnificent.’

‘Wanker.’ Jim was grinning broadly now. ‘I have a few ideas of what to do with it if you need direction.’ Ross came up behind him and ran his hands over said arse, then thrust up against it gently.

‘Really.’ he was finding it hard to breathe now. ‘What would you suggest?’ He leaned in, kissing Jim’s half turned mouth.

‘Your mouth.’ Jim breathed. ‘I want your mouth on me.’ Ross licked at his parted lips and then kissed him straight on, tongues brushing. Jim moaned as he thrust against him again. Ross huffed a laugh and pulled back to kiss Jim’s bare shoulders, nosing at the sprinkling of freckles almost hidden by the dark tan. Jim dropped his head forward, gasping a little as Ross bit gently at the back of his neck and then started kissing down his spine. ‘Is your knee going to be okay?’ he asked, and Ross hummed assent.

‘It’ll be fine.’ he said. ‘You may need to pick me back up again, but it’ll be worth it.’ He carefully got to one knee and then the other and Jim leaned forward to accommodate him. He shuddered at the first touch of Ross’ tongue and gripped the edges of the counter.

‘Oh God,’ he moaned. ‘On second thoughts I may leave you down there to do this forever. You are so damn good with your mouth. Fuck…’ Ross held him still, his tongue alternating with hard and soft movements and Jim spread his feet wider and pushed back into Ross’ mouth. Ross gripped his hips, fingers digging in, and went to work hard, saliva everywhere and his tongue pushing inside Jim until Jim was panting harshly and Ross could feel his thighs starting to shake ever so slightly. He sat back on his heels, stuck one finger in his mouth to wet it and slid it inside making Jim keen loudly.

‘Is that good?” he asked and Jim nodded vigorously.

‘Fucking good.’ he panted. Ross felt for the spot inside him and Jim threw back his head and cried out. ‘Jesus, there. Do it again.’ Ross complied, stroking in a steady rhythm and Jim fell forward against the counter. Ross leaned in again, licking around his finger and Jim’s panting went up a notch. Ross changed speed and then pulled his finger out entirely.

‘Lube.’ he said and Jim pushed himself up enough to open the kitchen cupboard and get it. They had put it in with the herbs and spices, giggling like children for reasons known only to themselves. He grabbed it and passed it down.

‘You need a hand up?’ he asked Ross, and Ross nodded, taking the offered hand gratefully. His knees were still a little stiff and the wrong kind of pressure on the leg that had been broken could cause a sharp pain. Once he was back on his feet, he popped the top and coated his fingers, sliding two back into position, his other hand on the small of Jim’s back. He watched them move in and out, fascinated by the smooth glide and then attacked Jim’s prostate without warning. Jim keened and started moving back with every thrust of Ross’ fingers. ‘Harder.’ he whined, and Ross obeyed, moving harder for a few minutes and then removing them, unable to wait any longer. He pushed down his own sweats, and added more lube into the mix, slicking himself up and then resting the head of his cock against Jim. He pushed as slowly as he could manage, watching it breach Jim’s body. Jim was panting quickly, little puffs of sound that Ross knew meant he was already flying up the orgasmic curve. He kept it slow, feeling the tightness relent and take him in, moving an inch at a time.

‘I love watching this.’ he breathed, hands on Jim’s hips to hold him steady. ‘I love watching you take me.’ Jim made a strangled noise and then he pushed back and Ross slid into position, their bodies bumping together. ‘How do you want it?’ He gave a gentle thrust and felt the fire rushing through from where their bodies were joined all the way up to his throat.

‘Deep.’ Jim moaned. ‘All the way in.’ He gasped as Ross pulled out equally slowly, still looking down at where Jim was stretched open around him, the skin shiny with lube. He slid one hand from Jim’s hip and let his thumb trace around himself and Jim yelped. Then he pushed back in, knowing that Jim would feel every inch of him going in until they were flush against each other again. He pressed his body up against Jim’s back and licked his neck.

‘You ready?’ he breathed into Jim’s ear and Jim nodded.

‘Do it.’ he whispered, ‘Fuck me.’ Ross smiled and reached for Jim’s hands where they were braced against the counter, covering them with his own and linking their fingers together. Then he pulled out halfway and slammed back in as hard as he could. Jim shouted, his whole body hitting up against the counter with the force of it.

‘Yes, like that.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Again.’ Ross latched his mouth onto the line of Jim’s shoulder, biting down as he pulled out and drove back in, hard and relentless. He paused between each thrust, letting the rush die down before he did it again, loving each startled cry from Jim as he was impaled against the counter. Ross kept it going, not letting Jim have a moment of continuity until Jim was almost crying from the intensity.

‘Come on.’ he demanded. ‘Fuck me like you mean it. Fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight. I want it.’ The urgency in his voice broke through Ross’ control and he gripped the back of Jim’s neck in one hand, pushing him down and then he went for it, hard thrust after hard thrust until he was screaming along with Jim and then he felt himself coming, all control swept away as he fucked into Jim like a man possessed. As it hit, he grabbed Jim’s hips in both hands, pulling him close so he drove as deep as he could, coming hard and filling him up. Jim followed, dropping to his elbows and crying out, his own release covering the kitchen cupboard in front of him. Their commingled moans echoed in the empty house and Ross leaned down to cover his body with his own, licking at the salty skin of Jim’s back.

Eventually his heart rate started to return to normal and Ross pulled out as gently as possible, watching his own cum starting to run down the insides of Jim’s thighs. It was the filthiest thing he’d ever seen and he felt a sudden urge to drop to his knees and taste himself on Jim’s skin. Instead he let his fingers trace around Jim’s entrance and Jim shuddered as he went into overload.

‘What are you doing?’ he breathed. Ross slipped the tip of his finger inside him, and Jim arched back.

‘I can stop if you want.’ Ross said, finger stilling. Jim was still bent over the counter and he shook his head.

‘No.’ he choked out. ‘Don’t stop. Put it in me.’ Ross swallowed and pressed in. It felt so different, the warm wetness of his cum mixed with the lube adding a whole other sensation into the mix. They had never done this before, not so soon after, and he felt his own cock starting to take a renewed interest. He slid a second finger inside and now Jim was starting to shake violently.

‘Oh fuck…’ he muttered from somewhere inside where his head was resting on his arms. ‘This is so fucking hot.’ Ross looked down, watching as his fingers came out coated in lube and his own cum, and felt an incredible rush.

‘I want to fuck you again.’ he said. ‘Can I?’

‘God yes.’ Jim moaned. Ross moved and started to push inside him again, quickly hardening in response. The wet noise of his cock going in did nothing to dampen his enthusiasm and soon he was all the way inside Jim again. He leaned against Jim’s back, and then slowly withdrew and pushed back again. Jim was loose and wet now, and it was much smoother, in fact it was so damn good that Ross knew he wouldn’t last long. He started a steady rhythm and Jim straightened up slightly, hands flat on the counter. Ross moved closer in response and wrapped an arm around his chest, holding them still as he came to rest all the way inside Jim.

‘This.’ he murmured into Jim’s ear. ‘This is home for me. You are everything I love and want and need.’ He shifted down and up, lifting Jim on his toes with movement of his hips. ‘I am complete when I’m inside you, as close as we can get.’ He moved again and Jim moved with him, slow and even.

‘Come with me, Ross.’ he breathed. Ross nodded against his shoulder, reached down to take Jim in his hand and then he sped up a little and let himself fly. It was warm and safe and secure and when he came the second time and felt Jim’s answering release cover his hand, it wasn’t as strong or as intense, but it was better. It anchored him and soothed him and when they came back down all he felt was love and calm and happiness.

Breakfast was very cold by the time they finally got around to eating it.

*************

Shortly after twelve, Ross finished dressing and then picked his beret up off the bed. He checked his pockets for his phone and wallet and then left the room, going downstairs. He stopped at the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, and knocked.

‘Hey, little mermaid?’ he called. ‘Have you dissolved yet?’ He pushed open the door and looked at Jim who was still submerged all the way up to his chin, one hand out the water and holding a paperback copy of Jaws in his hand. He gave Ross a look.

‘Merman, not mermaid, I’ll have you know.’ he retorted. Ross laughed and came over to the bath, dipping his fingers into the water.

‘It’s cold, Jim. Time to get out.’ he said, flicking water at Jim and then wiped his fingers on the towel hanging next to the bath.

‘I just need to finish this chapter.’ Jim replied, completely ignoring his attempts to get a reaction out of him. Ross grinned at his iron clad composure, even though he had water droplets clinging to his dark gold eyelashes.

‘Why? It’s not like you haven’t read it a thousand times before.’ he said, putting on his beret and adjusting it in the mirror over the basin. He met Jim’s glare in the mirror and smiled at him. ‘And you know how it ends.’

‘That’s not the point.’ Jim shifted in the bath and the water moved with him, threatening to overflow slightly. ‘Now, fuck off and go to therapy.’ Ross went to him, leaning down to kiss Jim’s wet mouth.

‘Wish me luck.’ he said, straightening up. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’ Jim said a little absentmindedly, already back in the book. Ross snorted with laughter and left, closing the door behind him.

***********

When he got to the centre, Ross went straight to the long corridor of offices. He walked along and then stopped dead as he saw Warleggan come out of his door, clipboard under his arm. To his complete surprise though, Warleggan took one look at him and ducked back inside as quick as a flash.

Ross frowned and then couldn’t stop a broad smile crossing his face. He suddenly felt extremely cheerful. He walked briskly down the corridor, checking the nameplates until he got to the room right at the bottom. Unlike the others, it didn’t have a frosted glass window, just a solid wooden door. Ross knocked. He expected the call to come in, but instead the door opened and Demelza looked around the door at him, a bright smile on her face. Like him she was in her working rig, her long curly red hair neatly tied back into a French plait, and her lieutenant’s flashes on her shoulders.

‘Good morning, Ross.’ she said, her smile bright. ‘Come in.’ She held the door open and Ross walked in, taking in the space. It was odd shaped, with a couple of high-set dormer windows. The walls were exposed brick and the floor wooden, heavily stained and scarred. ‘You’ll have to excuse my office. I think it used to be a storage cupboard.’

‘That’s all right.’ Ross replied. ‘Although I’ll think you’ll find it’s afternoon, not morning.’ Demelza laughed.

‘Christ, is it already?’ she said, checking her watch. ‘Where does the time go?’ She gestured to a pair of low set chairs in the corner. ‘Please take a seat, and we can get the paperwork out of the way first.’ She went over to a small desk angled into one corner and bent over it to grab a file. As she did so, she knocked a framed picture off and, to his surprise, Ross quickly reached out and caught it before it hit the ground. ‘Nice reflexes.’ She said. ‘Obviously your physical therapy is coming along well.’ Ross looked at the picture in his hand. He was expecting it to maybe be of Demelza’s family or a partner. Instead it was a picture of a very scruffy dog. Ross handed it back to her and smiled.

‘Yours, I presume.’ he said and Demelza nodded.

‘That’s my baby, Garrick.’ she said, returning his smile and putting the frame back on the desk. ‘The love of my life.’

‘He’s very handsome.’ Ross said. Demelza laughed.

‘No, he’s not. He’s an ugly bugger but I rescued him off the side of the road when he was just a puppy and he repays me with loyalty and friendship, the like of which I wish more people showed towards each other.’ She gave Ross a look, a twinkle in her blue eyes. ‘He’s also a tremendous guard dog, much like your lieutenant. Coffee?’ Ross nodded, both to the coffee and to what Demelza had just said. He watched as she made the coffee at a small table stuck behind her desk between two filing cabinets, nodding when she held up a bag of sugar.

‘Yes, please. And you’re right. Jim can be a bit protective.’ he said. ‘He tends to growl at people who he thinks it’s not in my best interest to talk to.’

‘Just like Garrick then. However, a protective partner is a good thing to have. You feel like someone is always in your corner.’ Demelza said as she came back across the space and took one of the chairs. ‘Sit down, please.’ Ross took the other, removing his beret and folding it so he could stick it under his shoulder flash before accepting the mug of coffee from her. This was already different. In Warleggan’s office he’d been ordered to sit in an uncomfortable chair on the opposite side of the enormous desk, and been ignored until Warleggan deemed it fit to speak to him. And then it was mostly to answer the questions that were directed at him like live rounds. Not only that, but Warleggan would never have dreamed of opening the door for him or offering him coffee.

For the first time since starting his therapy at Tedworth, Ross felt comfortable.

Demelza reached down to a wire magazine rack next to her chair and retrieved a spiral bound notebook, the cover decorated with songbirds. Then she took the click pen from her top pocket and smiled at Ross.

‘Let’s get started, shall we?’


	9. Listen to the Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made for when Jim has to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Listen to the Man by George Ezra

Domestic bliss.

They were words Ross would never have ever thought he would be applying to himself. But now, four weeks after Jim had turned up on his doorstep, he lay half-awake in the dimness of the bedroom, looking at the back of Jim’s head and he knew they finally applied to him. It wasn’t perfect, he knew that. He and Jim were still feeling their way along, but if he was honest with himself Ross knew he hadn’t been happier in his life. Even with all the shit going on around them, he was happy. The weeks had gone by surprisingly quickly and now Ross was so used to having Jim around that he felt himself starting to panic a little at the thought of him leaving again. Jim was very good about making sure Ross was looked after, and he’d gotten very comfortable with the way things were. He’d never had a live-in relationship, hell he’d never had a relationship he was starting to realise. And Jim’s presence in the house was more than just making sure the shopping was done or that the place was reasonably clean. It was the warm, solid body in the bed next to him every night and the comfortable silences and the cuddling together on the sofa. Ross had known that what he and Jim was different to anything he’d had before but he’d half put that down to the mind blowing sex that always seemed to end up happening when they were in the same space for more than a couple of hours. He was very pleasantly surprised to find that, even when they weren’t fucking, it worked very well. 

There had been things to figure out, the usual strangeness of learning to share space. It did help that they were both used to the lack of privacy that came with the armed forces so that side of their cohabitation was not a problem, although Ross had to laugh at how easily they fell into the casual nudity thing with each other, to the extent that he almost opened to door to the postman a couple of mornings ago without even realising what he was doing.

But there were other things too. He hadn’t realised how strange it would be to share a bed with someone. He and Jim had usually only been together a few nights in a row, but they had been sharing his bed for the last two weeks and Ross was completely smitten with the idea. He hadn’t known how completely wonderful it was to snuggle into Jim’s back at night or to feel his arm around him when he woke up in the morning, Jim’s nose nuzzled into the back of his neck. He woke up with Jim’s smell all over him, with his sleepy blue-green eyes blinking at him like a cat. Or that it took surprisingly little to turn that look from sleepy to heated, resulting in a tangle of limbs and heated breath against bare skin until they were so lost in each other it was like there was nothing outside Ross’ bed. 

It was like they were addicted to each other. Those first few times had only led to an increase in frequency and intensity, and it was rare for them to pass a day without ending up having sex of some form or another, using hands, mouths and bodies to do all the things they hadn’t really had time to try during their rather rushed courtship. It amused Ross to think of how horrified Carter and Holmewood would be to realise that that long ago uttered assurance that he and Jim could fuck in any room of the house had been taken quite literally. Even the back garden hadn’t been safe. And with each encounter, each litany of words from Jim’s open, panting mouth about how good it was, how much he loved the way Ross fucked him, or how good Ross felt when he was doing the fucking, Ross felt his confidence come back. It helped that Jim had told him that he actually liked the scar, that it made him look a little dangerous and that that was a massive turn on. He’d never thought that he could look attractive the way he now was, but Jim’s continuous assurances made him start to believe it. 

They also discovered that they argued. This was something that they hadn’t expected. But then, to be fair, neither of them had been in each other’s presence long enough to conflict with each other. But they had discovered that Jim’s compulsive need for tidiness sometimes ran into the extreme, and Ross was often confused when he’d put a coffee mug down for five seconds only to turn back and find it gone, only to be discovered in the drying rack. That had resulted in a spat that had gone on for two days until Ross caught Jim in the act and shouted a rather loud ‘Aha!’ at him. After that they designated one mug as the do-not-touch under any circumstances mug that Ross was free to leave anywhere around the house that he so chose. 

Ross knew he was fiercely independent, as was Jim, and this also worked both in their favour. They were very happy to give each other their space, and Ross found himself oddly comforted simply by knowing that Jim was around somewhere, even if he wasn’t in the room with him. And when they were together, they had fallen into the habit of not saying much unless they were both in a chatty mood. Jim never pressed him to talk, unless it was something that patently bothered him. And since his change to Demelza, Ross was not coming back from therapy with the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore. And for his part, Jim was very good at getting him to come out of himself if Ross got that thousand yard stare of his. 

He’d had it the night before, and Jim had not said much to him. Instead he’d taken Ross to bed, then fucked him slow and deep until Ross could hardly make coherent words from how good it felt. And when they were done, Jim had simply held him until Ross’ breathing had evened out and he’d fallen asleep. 

‘Hey.’ Jim’s sleep rough voice startled him out of his thoughts. ‘How long have you been awake?’ he hadn’t turned and Ross moved up against him, one arm stealing around Jim’s waist. He nuzzled the back of Jim’s neck, nose brushing the warm skin and inhaled deeply. He never got enough of Jim’s smell. 

‘Just a little while.’ he murmured and Jim shifted so they were pressed against each other. 

‘It’s early.’ Jim said, and he half turned to Ross. ‘But if we’re both awake…’

‘Yes?’ Ross smiled, anticipating a re-run of the previous night’s action.

‘Then we can get up and get out.’ Jim said and Ross groaned and slumped back down.

‘Oh God.’ he said. ‘Please tell me you are joking.’

***********

Jim wasn’t joking. He never did about their little excursions.

They were on the last stretch of road to Lulworth, and then the coast came into sight. Jim was aghast that Ross had never been and so he’d dragged him out of bed at Oh Christ o’clock to get him in the car and down to the seaside. And Ross had to admit, that after the first shock of being up so early, which he really should have been used to considering his profession, that the morning was beautiful, and being on the road with no other traffic around was very calming. He looked at Jim, taking in the features he could have drawn perfectly from memory alone, and sighed softly. Jim didn’t look at him, but smiled in response. He could read Ross now almost as easily as one of his books and knew the sigh was one of contentment. 

‘There it is.’ he said and Ross sat up a little straighter to look ahead. There was a parking lot on the left and they pulled in, then parked. ‘Come on, Poldark. Let’s go for a walk.’

‘Do we have to?’ Ross yawned, settling back down in his seat. ‘I can say I’ve been here now and we can go back to bed.’ Jim laughed and undid his seat belt.

‘Lazy bones.’ he said fondly. ‘Get your arse out the car.’ Then he got out and the burst of air brought a distinct chill with it. 

‘I can’t believe this is supposed to be summer.’ Ross grumbled as he got out the car. He looked at the horizon, the early morning light paining the sky in almost unreal shades of pink and gold and orange. ‘And it’s far too fucking early to be awake.’ Jim came round from his side, backpack over his one shoulder. 

‘Not if you’re a sailor.’ he said. ‘And if we left it any later the beach would be too busy.’ He grinned and took Ross’ hand. ‘Now stop bitching and let’s go.’ 

They walked along the pathway that ran along the coast, and the air was touched with a light breeze. They went slowly, taking their time as they wandered along. It was beautiful though, the flat green land leading down to the sandy beach and rocky outcrops. And what’s more it was quiet. They passed only one other person, an elderly man with a scruffy mongrel at his heels that Jim knelt down to say hello to. Other than that they pretty much had the place to themselves. But then, Ross reasoned, it was five in the morning. 

Down on the beach, the white sand crunched under their trainers. Jim deposited the backpack at the high tie mark and stripped off his t-shirt, sweats and shoes. Underneath he had on the black swimming trunks he usually wore when he went swimming in the base pool. He bundled his clothes up and lobbed them at Ross with a cheeky grin, then headed down to the water.

‘Don’t get lost.’ Ross called after him. Jim waved once over his shoulder and waded into the surf, going out until it was deep enough to dive in and then disappearing under the water. Ross watched intently, breathing a little sigh of relief when he popped up a good few metres from where he’d gone under and started swimming out to sea. He watched until Jim had more or less disappeared from sight and then looked down the beach. He debated whether or not to take a walk, but he was feeling lazy from his enforced early morning and flopped down on the sand instead, stretching his legs out in front of him. His shin ached a little, as it now normally did when the temperature was on the low side. He reached down and ran a hand along his leg, feeling the indentation of the long scar that ran along his shin from where they’d pinned the bone. Like the scar on his face, it was yet another reminder that he was learning to live with. 

Ross leaned back on his hands and looked at the ocean stretched out in front of him. He couldn’t see Jim at all now, and he felt the little lurch of disquiet in his stomach. But he controlled it, knowing that Jim would be in there for about an hour, happily swimming up and down the coast, sometimes drifting to look at the sky. Ross took the bundle of clothes that Jim had thrown at him, pressing it to his nose and inhaling the smell. Then he shoved it under his head, pulled his baseball cap over his eyes and let himself drift off to the sound of the waves. 

He was awoken by the feel of water droplets hitting him, and pushed his cap back to see Jim grinning at him. He was wet, thick hair spiky and he was rubbing himself down with the towel he’d taken from the back-pack. 

‘Hey sleepy head.’ he said, ‘You know how long you were out for?’

‘No idea.’ Ross replied, sitting up and stretching. ‘For as long as you were out there I think.’ He watched as Jim wrapped the towel around his waist and changed back into the dry boxers and jeans he’d also taken out, then sat down next to Ross, rubbing his hair dry with the towel and raking his fingers through it when he was done. Ross watched, completely enamoured with every little gesture. 

‘So, I was thinking.’ Jim said, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Ross looked at him expectantly.

‘Yeah?’ he asked. ‘What?’

‘Well, you’re effectively signed off until January.’ Jim said. ‘Then they give you your fitness tests and psychological evaluation and decided what they want to do with you.’

‘Christ, don’t fucking remind me.’ Ross said. He reached for a handful of sand, letting it pour through his fingers. ‘I don’t think I really ready to think about that yet.’ He leaned over a little, settling his head on Jim’s shoulder, and could feel that Jim’s skin was cold from the sea under his t-shirt. 

‘I know.’ Jim replied. ‘That’s what’s bothering me. I don’t want to go away and have you get into the same state as before because you don’t want to or can’t tell me when things are fucking up. The guys won’t be back for another three months yet.’ Ross sighed heavily. He had been feeling the same way but hadn’t known how to bring it up. 

‘I don’t want you to go.’ he said, his voice low. ‘But I also don’t want you to stay. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to do that, and it would make you unhappy.’ He lifted his head and Jim turned to look at him, their faces inches apart. ‘I would rather die than make you unhappy.’ Jim gave him a half smile and reached up, stroking his thumb along down along Ross’ scar from his eyebrow to where it stopped just at the corner of his mouth. 

‘You are so bloody overdramatic sometimes.’ he said, then leaned in and kissed Ross once, his mouth as cold as the rest of him. ‘That’s what I’m saying. I want to stay but I can’t. But I also don’t want to leave you alone. That’s why I was thinking that maybe you could go stay with Rose for the couple of months I’m gone. That way I’ll be happy that you’re not alone and you can be with someone that I trust to look after you as well as I can.’ He looked searchingly at Ross. ‘So, what do you think?’

‘You really think she’d let me stay?’ Ross asked, a little overwhelmed at the thought of Rose simply opening her door to him, especially after what he’d done the last time he was there. 

‘Who do you think told me to ask you?’ Jim was smiling at him. ‘When I worry, she worries. I should warn you, you may have to earn your keep. Rose Hawkins is a slave driver in the guise of the world’s best mom.’

‘I can do that.’ Ross said. He felt ridiculously happy at the thought. If he couldn’t be with Jim, then being with the next closest person made him feel far more at ease. ‘I’m sure Demi will be happy to do Skype sessions with me.’ 

‘I’m sure she will.’ Jim agreed. ‘So, can I call Rose and tell her she’s getting a house pest in two weeks?’ Ross nodded.

‘Yes you can.’ he said.

****************

‘I think it’s an excellent idea.’ Demelza said. She had one leg over the other, her boot swinging back and forth. ‘You’ll have a support system in place and someone who’s had experience in dealing with a similar issue. And quite frankly, sitting around Bovington with nothing to do will only make you feel worse. I am a great believer in keeping yourself busy with constructive activities when you need to displace some of the separation anxiety you’re inevitably going to have when Jim goes back on deployment.’ 

‘So, I should do it?’ Ross asked. Demelza shrugged. 

‘You have to decide that. But I do think there are distinct advantages to not having to be on your own. And Jim will be back at the end of November so it won’t too long, but it will also give you time to deal with the fact that he’s gone in a place that you feel comfortable in. And when he has to go on his extended deployment next year you will be better equipped to cope with it.’ Demelza said, and looked thoughtful. She tapped her pen against her teeth. ‘We can do this over Skype and you’re not reliant on your physical therapy anymore. Ari will probably be happy to just give you a routine to follow.’

‘So go?’ Ross asked. Demelza smiled.

‘So go.’ she said.

**************

Two weeks later, Ross came down the stairs, the last bag in his hand. He went out the front door and handed it to Jim, who chucked it in the back seat. 

‘Everything off?’ he asked and Ross nodded. 

‘All done.’ Ross said. He moved around to the front passenger side, opened the door and climbed in then settled into the seat and did up his seat belt. Then he watched as Jim locked the front door and came around to the driver’s side and did the same thing. ‘Are we going straight to the house?’

‘Unless you want to stop for anything.’ Jim said. He started the car and backed out of the drive, then pulled off. 

‘No. I think I have everything I need.’ Ross said, giving him a sideways look. Jim smiled and turned on the radio.

The drive to Somerset could not have been any more different than it was the last time. Ross felt no trepidation or fear, and they didn’t stop once. By the time they got to Watchet, it was getting dark and the lights were on in the cottage. Jim pulled in next to his own car, which he’d left behind when Ross had jumped ship. 

As they got out the Land Rover, the front door opened and Rose came outside with Port and Starboard. She had a gigantic maroon woolen cardigan on over her jeans and was wearing a pair of slippers that looked like dinosaur feet. Her thick blond hair was tied up in a scruffy bun on top of her head and she was beaming. In that instant all of Ross’ trepidation at coming back. They had two weeks left before Jim had to leave and they had both decided that it would be a good idea to move up to Rose’s cottage and let Ross get settled in. They had found him a physio in Watchet that he could go to, and Demelza and he had set a regular schedule of Skype appointments. 

‘Hello boys.’ Rose said, waiting for Jim to come to her at the front step, kissing him on the cheek and pulling him into a hug. Ross hung back, still a little unsure. He hadn’t spoken to Rose since that morning he’d left in such a hurry, and which had started the downward spiral he’d found himself in. But, if he thought she would hold grudges, Ross found himself being proven wrong as she let go of Jim and moved past him to come to Ross with her arms open. For a moment he hesitated and then walked into the hug, wrapping his own arms around her. ‘I am so glad you’re back.’ she whispered in his ear and Ross tightened his grip on her, her soothing presence doing wonders for his trepidation. They stood there like that for what seemed like ages, as Jim went and got their things from the back of the car, Ross’ bag on his shoulder and his own in his hand.

‘All right, you two.’ he laughed as he moved passed them, dancing around to avoid the frantically wriggling dogs. ‘You can move this mutual love-in inside.’ Rose let go of Ross and they followed him, and Rose closed the door behind them all.

‘Did you have a good trip?’ she asked, then gave Ross the up and down. ‘How’s your leg?’

‘It’s pretty much done.’ Ross said. ‘I don’t need to use the cast anymore, and all the exercises have got it pretty much back to where it was before. I just have to keep up with it and I should be as good as new.’ 

‘That’s good news.’ Rose said, smiling at him as she took his arm and walked him into the kitchen. “I made dinner, but we can have a cup of tea first and you can tell me how things are going with this new therapist of yours.’ She gave Jim a look over Ross’ shoulder. ‘You go take your shit upstairs and maybe there will be cake in it for you.’

‘Well, I can see who the favourite is in this relationship.’ Jim said and grinned at Ross. Rose glared at him and he disappeared and they heard his footsteps thumping up the stairs.

‘Sit.’ Rose said and Ross went to the table. Ross put the kettle on and busied herself with taking out mugs and plates. ‘So Jim says Demi’s doing you the world of good.’

‘She is.’ Ross replied. Jim more often than not came with him to the centre now, and always stopped in to say hello to Demelza before wandering off to wait for Ross. ‘Jim likes her a lot, and I have to say that I can’t imagine how bad things would be if I hadn’t gone to her.’ Rose added teabags to the mugs and poured in the boiled water as the kettle switched off. 

‘People think that being depressed is a choice.’ she said. ‘Or that if you are depressed that you must have some predisposition towards it. They don’t realise how damaging ideas like that are. If people could just accept that it’s a genuine medical condition that could be brought on by anything then the stigma attached to it wouldn’t be half as bad. I was lucky to find someone that understood what I was going through and made me feel a whole lot better about myself. For a while I felt like such an awful failure because I fell to pieces when Rob died. Not only that, but it was at the point that I couldn’t even look after myself, let alone Jim. In fact, there was this amazing little boy and he was looking after me. You really don’t feel like a great mother when that happens.’ Rose took the teabags out of the mugs and brought everything to the table, pushing one across to Ross, then turned to get the milk out of the fridge and a cake tin down from the top of the fridge. When she opened it, it was full of lemon slices. ‘Here. Better have a couple before Jim inhales them all.’ Ross laughed and took one. 

‘I honestly don’t know how he isn’t twice the size he is.’ he said, biting into it and almost going cross eyed at how good it was. ‘Not that I blame him. If you were my mother, I would make you feed me constantly. Jesus, these are good.’ Rose smiled.

‘He burns it off.’ she said. ‘Have you ever seen him sit still?’

‘Only when he’s watching films or in the bath.’ Ross said. ‘Which he spends an awful lot of time doing, I’ve come to notice.’ 

‘People always used to say that at least I didn’t have a daughter to hijack the bathroom.’ Rose laughed. ‘What they didn’t realise was that Jim spent longer in the bath than I did. That's the whole reason we put in his own bathroom in the first place. He just loves being in the water, baths included. He used to go to sleep in there when he was a teenager and his insomnia was crazy.’ Ross put his chin on his hand and listened. He loved hearing these little bits of information that correlated to the man he’d been living with for a month.

‘I always think he’s going to dissolve.’ he said and sipped his tea. ‘I haven’t caught him sleeping in there yet, just reading.’

‘Give it time.’ Rose said. ‘Have you managed to break him of the compulsive need to bleach every surface?’

‘No.’ Ross laughed. ‘I think the house has actually never been as clean as it is now. And you should have warned me about the lists.’ That got a surprisingly deep chuckle from Rose.

‘He is funny with that.’ she said. ‘I think he loves making lists as much as he loves reading.’

‘He’s even got me doing it now.’ Ross said. ‘My life has never been so ordered.’ He took another lemon slice when Rose offered them. ‘It’s nice, though. I’ve never really had anyone look after me before.’ 

‘Yes, he’s very very good at that. But sometimes he’s so busy looking after other people that he forgets to look after himself.’ She sighed softly. ‘How has he been sleeping?’

‘Not too badly.’ Ross said. ‘I think I’ve got him into my routine.’

‘Good.’ Rose said. ‘I know he’d rather you didn’t know, but you two being at odds wrecked his sleep patterns. It hasn’t been that bad since Rob died. The girls were quite worried.’ She was speaking gently, but her eyes were serious. ‘What happened wasn’t good for either of you. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve worked things out.’ 

‘I know.’ Ross said softly, dropping his eyes to the table top. ‘I kind of fucked things up.’

‘It wasn’t all your fault.’ Rose said, reaching over and putting her hand over his. ‘Jim shouldn’t have let you go without a fight, instead of trying to be noble about the whole thing and just letting you leave like that.’ When Ross looked at her in surprise she nodded. ‘He knew you had left. He was watching us out the window. When I came back in I found him at the top of the stairs with the book in his hands. What he should have done was come back down with me and demand that you come back inside so you could have said goodbye to each other properly and not let it simmer the way it did. But for all his bolshiness, when it comes to conflict in relationships Jim really doesn’t have a handle on that. He let Greg push him around for three years, and it was often all I could do to hold my fucking tongue I can tell you that much.’ She smiled at Ross’ shock at her use of profanity. ‘That’s never going to stop being strange for you is it?’

‘I don’t think I have ever heard either of my parents use that word in my entire life.’ Ross said. ‘In fact I don’t think I’ve heard them swear.’ He smiled at Rose. ‘You are so different.’ 

‘Well, I wasn’t always like this. I was a sweet girl who wouldn’t say boo to a goose once, probably destined for a quiet life and the WI.’ she said.

‘So what happened?’ Ross asked. 

‘I went into Plymouth one day. Some friends of mine thought it would be fun to go down and pick up some sailors. We went to a pub and I was sitting there being a bit of a wallflower, and then this group of young men came in. And there he was, like someone had captured the sun and made it into a person.’ Rose smiled at the memory. ‘I took one look at him, and it was like someone had chucked a bucket of cold water in my face, like I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was watch him and then then he laughed and I took one look at those dimples and fell in love with him on the spot.’ 

‘Sounds horribly familiar.’ Ross said. ‘It doesn’t explain the language though.’

‘Trust me, if you had met Robert you would see it. He had a terrible leaning towards bad language. His father did as well, but then he was also Navy. And the Navy isn’t exactly known for their excessive politeness, even the high ranking officers.’ Rose laughed. ‘And I guess it just kind of rubbed off. Although I nearly killed him when I went shopping in Exmoor for the day and left Jim with Robert to go sailing. It all seemed fine until Jim went to pre-school on the Monday and I got a call from his teacher who had discovered that Jim had learned a new word. Needless to say I tried to ban profanity from the house until we could at least teach him to be more cautious in how he used his vocabulary. By the time Jim was ten though, it had pretty much fallen down around my ears and I though well, if you can’t beat them, join them.’ She looked at Ross. ‘Have you seen a picture of Rob?’

‘Just the one Jim has upstairs.’ Ross said. ‘Jim looks a bit like him, although I think he takes after you a lot more.’

‘He does, except for the smile.’ Rose said. ‘Of all the things in the world that Jim got from Rob, it’s the smile I am most grateful for. Hang on.’ She got up and disappeared into the living room, coming back shortly with a photo album. ‘Here.’ She handed it to Ross. He opened it and started looking at the pictures. They were chronologically ordered, and started with a slender and frankly gorgeous Rose, her thick blonde hair much lighter and loose around her face. She was with Robert in many of the pictures and Ross instantly saw what Rose meant. There was one shot of them balanced against an old red Golf, Robert smiling over Rose’s shoulder and she was right. His smile and the deep dimples in his cheeks were identical to his son’s. Ross continued, flicking through the pictorial trail of their life, past pictures of them at their engagement party and their wedding. In all of them, they looked ridiculously happy, their smiles bright, and always touching in some way. He studied Robert’s face, the strong line of his jaw which Jim had also inherited along with the broad shoulders and compact build. 

The next page he turned to made him smile though, as he looked at the picture of a heavily pregnant Rose eating an ice cream on the beach and laughing up at the camera. She was wearing a sea green sundress with her extended bump clearly visible, and Ross found it strange to think that he was looking at his unborn boyfriend. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a picture of his mother pregnant with him. There were a few more, including a picture of Rob and a tall man with thick ash blond hair and what Ross suddenly realised was actually the Hawkins smile, because the brightness and dimples were in attendance in him as well. He looked at Rose questioningly.

‘That’s Eddie, Jim’s grandfather. He died when Jim was seventeen.’ Rose said. ‘He was good fun and a great help, but he lived in Nova Scotia so we didn’t get to see him much.’

‘Wait, so he was Canadian?’ Ross asked and she nodded. 

‘He was, but he met Effie here when he was serving in the Second World War, married her and ended up staying here. After she died he went back.’ She grinned at Ross. ‘You really don’t know much about Jim, do you?’

‘I know the important things.’ Ross protested. ‘And I’m busy learning the rest.’ He turned the next page and fell quiet as he took in pictures of a broadly smiling Rob with a blond haired infant, who could only be Jim, in his arms.

‘Oh, great.’ Jim’s voice drawled sarcastically from the doorway. He came into the kitchen and glared at Rose. ‘You had to get the fucking baby pictures out?’ 

‘I wanted to show him your father if you must know.’ Rose said, but her smile was unrepentant. 

‘Bollocks.’ Jim said. ‘At least I had the good sense to get rid of all the ones with me naked in them.’

‘Which was a lot.’ Rose said to Ross with a conspiratorial grin. ‘Jim went through a phase when he was four where he just refused to wear anything. That was a trial and a half let me tell you.’ Ross looked at Jim with a raised eyebrow and Jim snorted.

‘At least I never committed the crimes against fashion that you and Dad did.’ he retorted. ‘I notice that the album is remarkably short in pictures of you when you were going through your Stevie Nicks period.’

‘Hush you.’ Rose said. 

***********

After dinner and a couple of hours going through photo albums with Rose, Ross excused himself and went upstairs to the room. He was tired from the trip and the unexpected amount of emotions he’d had coming back to Rose’s house. Once there, he stopped and sighed as he remembered the last time he’d been there and felt a twinge of regret at what he’d done. 

‘Hey.’ Ross turned to see Jim in the doorway behind him. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Do what?’ Ross asked, avoiding his eyes. Jim came up next to him, placing one hand on his face and making Ross look at him.

‘That.’ he said, moving in so they were standing toe to toe. ‘Getting lost in what’s done. It’s in the past, Ross. I don’t hold it against you and you shouldn’t either.’ Jim’s blue-green eyes were clear and calm as he looked at Ross. ‘This is a clean slate, we agreed. Remember?’ Ross nodded and Jim leaned up a little, kissing him gently. 

‘I love you.’ he murmured and Jim smiled. 

‘Love you too.’ he replied. ‘So, you want to go to bed or read or something?’ 

‘I need a shower.’ Ross said. ‘You want to come with me?’ 

***********

Jim got out first and left Ross to stand under the hot water, letting it soothe his stiff shoulders from sitting for too long in the car. Once he was done he got out and dried off and then brushed his teeth and came back into the room, the air cool on his naked skin. 

Jim was in bed when he came out of the bathroom, book in hand as usual. Ross peered at the cover, but he didn’t recognise the title. 

‘What are you reading?’ he asked, as he pulled the duvet back and slid in next to Jim, who turned the book so he could see. ‘The Yamato?’ He looked at the grainy picture of a warship on the front cover. ‘You are properly obsessed, you know that?’ Jim smiled at him, and kissed him lightly.

‘It’s not the only thing I'm obsessed with, which is a good thing because a lesser man might well have given up with you.’ he said. Ross stuck his tongue out at him and Jim laughed. ‘Oh that’s mature, Poldark.’ Ross snickered, and waited for Jim to lift one arm so he could slide under it, head resting on Jim’s shoulder with his own arm draped over Jim's body. ‘You good?’

‘Perfect.’ he replied and closed his eyes.


	10. I Feel You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation and 'conversation'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from I Feel You by Depeche Mode

The nightmares started two days after they got to Rose’s house. At first Ross said nothing. He’d managed to hide that he’d woken in the night, heart racing and breathing short with dying images of bright flashes of light and the peeling of weightlessness followed by nothing. And the first twice was simply this, images and sensations. But the end of the first week night, he was feeling so jumpy that he was now sitting on the back terrace of the cottage with Jim’s laptop on the wooden picnic table in front of him, and with Demelza’s face on the screen. Down below him on the beach, he could see Jim walking along the water’s edge with the dogs. It was a bright and sunny day for September and the sun glinted off his hair. 

‘Ross?’ Demelza’s voice brought him back out of himself and he looked back at her. ‘This is going to be okay. You’re just reacting to the fact that Jim’s going to be leaving in a week, and that anxiety is tapping into what’s already in your mind. You had the dreams before he got back, and now you’re preparing to go back into that state and this is how your fears are manifesting.’ 

‘I just felt like I’d made progress.’ Ross said. He knew he sounded disconsolate, but he couldn’t hide it. He was bitterly disappointed that he was, to his mind, relapsing and he said as much. Demelza frowned.

‘You do realise this takes years to fix. I know you have your evaluation in three months, but it takes a lot longer to get over something as traumatic as what happened to you. You’re carrying a lot of anger and a lot of guilt over what happened. And some people never get over it.’ She sighed and looked at him thoughtfully. ‘What you need to do is find a way to mediate these feelings so they don’t build up like they did last time. You need to keep from falling into that pattern of self-destructive behaviour.’

‘So, what do I do?’ Ross asked. He felt comfortable enough with her now to not hide the despair in his voice. ‘I can’t lean on Rose like I lean on Jim. It wouldn’t be fair.’

‘She invited you, Ross. Why don’t you let her decide that instead of trying to shut her out before she’s even had a chance to help you.’ Demelza said. ‘That will go a long way in giving you the support you need. And don’t forget, she’s been through this. Learn from her experience. She knows what it’s like to be in the place you were in. I think that talking to her about all of this will only help you. And it’s good to spread the load. If you become too dependent on Jim, this will happen every time he goes on deployment.’ She consulted her notebook and then looked up again. ‘There are other things you can try, breathing exercises to calm yourself but at the end of the day, the dreams will keep coming until you find something that you can hold onto to take the fear away.’

‘But what else could there be?’ Ross asked. ‘That’s the thing. The only thing that does keep it away is him. And the dreams are here, even though we’re together, so obviously just being with him isn’t doing it anymore.’

‘Maybe you need to explore that then.’ Demelza said. ‘If Jim’s the focal point for you feeling calm, then maybe you could do something together that brings you back down when it gets too bad. Think of the things about him that centre you when you’re together and hold onto those.’ She checked her watch. ‘I have to go, we’re already twenty minutes over.’

‘Sorry.’ Ross smiled. ‘I always seem to mess up your schedule.’

‘What schedule?’ Demelza laughed. ‘I’ll see you in two days.’ She waved at him through the screen and then the call cut out. Ross closed the laptop and looked back down towards the beach. Jim was a little closer now and he had stopped in one place. Ross watched as he bent down to one of the dogs then straightened up and drew his arm back, throwing the ball they were playing with in a graceful curve out over the water. Port and Starboard tore after it, splashing into the water while Jim watched them. 

Ross sighed. He knew that they only had a week left and the old panic was resurfacing at the thought of Jim being away, even though he would only be gone for two months this time, and Denmark was a lot closer than the Philippines and Ross would be at home so he could be in contact with Jim whenever he wanted, watches permitting. All of that was a lot more comforting. But, at the same time, Ross was feeling the pressure of having to deal with the absence of the person that kept him grounded and steadied. He was alarmed that the dreams were back, but Demelza’s words made a lot of sense. He knew that he couldn’t expect to get better overnight, or even get better. In fact Jim hated those words, preferring to talk about him getting to a point of managing the condition, rather than an artificial construction of what ‘better’ might mean. But Ross was also very aware of the need to be seen as being back at the point he was before the ambush when he had his evaluation in January or he knew he could kiss his army career goodbye. His only comfort was that at least Jim would be home when he had to go in and have it done. The physical side of things was so much easier. He was up to hiking out every day now, building up his strength and stamina again, but always mindful of doing too much. The pain in his leg was pretty much gone, even if the scar was still there. It seemed strange to Ross to imagine that there were now bits of metal in there and he idly wondered if he’d now set the alarms off at Bovington. 

Ross reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the chain with his dog tags and the ring. He still hadn’t told Jim about it, and looking back he could see how freaked out and not in his right mind he had been before Jim left that he’d taken that step without even knowing what it was that he wanted it to mean. He had, however, told Demelza about it and she had said that it was his way of trying to express the fact that he was in love with Jim in the only way he’d known how to at that point, especially as he had been unable to verbalise it. It was also why he’d clung to it while he was in Afghanistan, the ring becoming symbolic of his relationship with Jim. Now Ross carried it everywhere with him, along with his dog tags. He still really wanted to give it to Jim, but in such a way that it wouldn’t seem like a grand gesture or, heaven forbid, a proposal. 

‘Now that is some deep thinking if I ever saw it.’ Rose’s voice came from behind him and Ross turned to see her standing and looking at him. ‘You and Demelza finished for the day?’ She came up and sat next to him, and Ross shifted to make room for her. She looked at the chain in his hands. ‘Are you ever going to give it to him?’ Ross looked back at her in surprise. ‘Duckie it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who you bought it for. You always take it out when he’s not around but you can still see him. Like now.’ Her clear blue eyes were thoughtful as she looked at him. ‘Do you mind if I ask you what it’s for?’

‘It wasn’t for anything.’ Ross said. ‘When I bought it, I had no idea what I wanted it to mean. Now, it’s like everything that’s him and me and us and …’ He trailed off, not knowing what else to say. ‘Do you think I should? Give it to him, I mean.’ 

‘Why would you want to?’ Rose asked. ‘What would it mean now, after having been together these last two months?’

‘That I know he’ll come back. And that I’ll be here waiting for him when he does.’ Ross said. He took the chain back from Rose. ‘I just don’t know if that would be a bit too much, though. A ring seems like I’m asking him for so much, a serious commitment. I don’t know what he would do if I did that.’ 

‘It doesn’t have to be that serious, although I think that Jim wouldn’t run as far from committing to you as you think he would.’ Rose said. ‘In fact I would put good money on him throwing himself at you and professing undying love.’

‘I can’t imagine that.’ Ross laughed. ‘He’s so pragmatic.’

‘Not where you’re concerned.’ Rose smiled at him. ‘I’ve never seen him so smitten before. Even Alec didn’t turn his head like you have.’ Ross couldn’t hide the pleased smile that crossed his face. ‘I think if you were to ask him to may you tomorrow he wouldn’t even think twice about it.’ She giggled at the somewhat scandalised look on Ross face as she said that. ‘Not that I’m suggesting that you propose mind you. At least, not yet.’ She held out her hand. ‘Give me the ring.’

‘Why?’ Ross felt a small twinge of panic at the thought of handing it over. Rose noticed his sudden reluctance and put her hand on his arm.

‘Trust me, Ross.’ she said, her voice gentle. ‘I know what to do with it.’ Ross met her eyes, the frank blue gaze so like her son’s. He undid the catch and slipped the ring off the chain and dropped it into her open palm. Rose looked at it intently. ‘It’s beautiful.’ she said.

‘It’s scratched and dented.’ Ross said, trying to make his voice sound less sardonic than it was.

‘That’s only because it’s been through hell.’ Rose said. ‘It doesn’t make it any less valuable for its experiences. And it also doesn’t mean that it would be any less treasured. In fact, I would argue that if anything the person who got would keep it that much closer because he knows what happened to it.’

‘Is this your very not so subtle way of telling me to just shut up and let him love me?’ Ross couldn’t hide his smile. 

‘Of course it is.’ Rose said. ‘And to tell you not to worry so much about his feelings or what it will mean for you when he leaves. Jim is very constant and when he gives his heart away to someone, it’s not a decision he has taken lightly. He loves you, Ross.’

‘I know.’ Ross said. ‘I love him too.’ He huffed a quiet laugh. ‘As far as I can tell. I’m kind of new to all of this.’

‘So was I.’ Rose said. ‘The Hawkins men are forces of nature in their own right, and sometimes you just have to hold on and go for the ride with them. But I promise you this Ross, you will never regret it. Not for one second.’ Her eyes were misty.

‘You miss him.’ Ross said.

‘Every damn day.’ she replied. ‘Not a moment goes by when I don’t think of him in some way.’ She took a deep breath and then her sunny smile was back. ‘Now let’s see what we can do with this.’ She handed the ring back to Ross and got up. ‘I think I have just the thing.’ Ross watched as she disappeared into the cottage and looked back down to where Jim was now running down the beach with the dogs in hot pursuit. He laughed at the sight, and felt the warm feeling in his chest that he got whenever he looked at Jim. He was so focused on him that he jumped a little when Rose sat back down next to him. Ross noticed that she had a length of what looked like black cord in her hand. He looked a little closer and saw that it was a leather thong. She saw him frown and held out her hand again. Ross handed the ring to her and Rose took it. Then she doubled the leather thong, looped it through and then threaded the tails through again so the ring was held securely. Then she quickly and expertly created an intricate knot to keep it in place and the finally tied a knot in each tail around the other and tugged them tight. Ross saw that the way she had done it meant there was no need for a catch. 

‘Wow.’ he said. ‘Okay, that’s very cool.’

‘Sailing.’ Rose smiled. ‘Knots are kind of a speciality.’ She handed the now-necklace back to Ross. ‘You may not want to give him a ring, so this might be a little less intimidating.’ Ross took it and shook his head.

‘You are bloody amazing.’ he said. ‘Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?’ Ross chuckled and got up.

‘Right I’m off to the pub. I’ll be off late so I’m staying there tonight. You may want to take advantage of the situation.’ She gave him a wink and walked to the edge of the garden and whistled, the shrill noise piercing the air. Ross saw Jim’s head come up immediately and look in her direction. She waved to him and he raised his own hand in answer. 

‘You’re going to have to teach me that one.’ he said and Rose laughed. 

‘I’ll see you boys tomorrow. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’ she said.

‘That probably doesn’t cover very much.’ Ross said. 

‘You’re right. It doesn’t.’ she replied and went back inside the cottage.

*************

After dinner, they settled on the sofa in their now routine positions, each one with their back against an arm, and with their legs tangled together. Jim had switched the lights off so they could watch a film and the only real light was from that and the fire he’d lit. That was the only problem with the cottage, its stone walls and wooden floors not really being conducive to warmth. Ross had his good leg underneath Jim’s and his bad one over the other. Jim had one hand on his healing shin, and the hand was warm and comforting. Ross watched him watching the TV and decided he needed to do something definitive. 

‘So.’ he started and Jim turned to look at him, half-smile on his face. 

‘So?’ he asked, raising one eyebrow at him. ‘Do you have a thought to go with that or am I guessing?’ Ross gave him a gentle kick and he laughed. ‘I’m sorry. What did you want to say?’

‘I don’t know if I want to tell you now.’ Ross replied, folding his arms in mock annoyance. He loved this little dance they did around each other. ‘Maybe I’ll just leave you in suspense.’

‘Fine.’ Jim was grinning in a way that made Ross’ heart skip a beat. He turned back to the TV. ‘It probably wasn’t very interesting anyway.’ Ross kicked him again and then dug the necklace out of his pocket and chucked it at him. Jim caught it neatly and looked at it. 

‘So here.’ Ross said. ‘It’s for you. Maybe not so interesting.’ He was still playing, his tone light but he faltered as he saw Jim’s expression change. Immediately Ross wanted to take it back, but then Jim smiled, dimples on show and blue-green eyes lighting up. ‘It’s just that you gave me something important to you and I wanted to do the same.’

‘Thank you.’ he said, and there was no hint of insincerity in his voice. ‘Did you make it?’

‘Your mom did.’ Ross replied hesitantly. ‘The ring is something I bought you before…’ he stopped, the words surprisingly hard to get out now he was saying them. ‘Before we went on deployment. I wanted to give it to you but then I kind of ran away.’ It was so difficult to get out. He and Jim had never really spoken about that night. Jim looked at the ring and Ross felt a little surge of something as he turned it in his fingers. For one crazy moment he wondered what it would look like on his hand instead of around his neck. 

‘Was it with you when you got hit?’ Jim asked in that matter-of-fact way of his. It was not something he was expecting Jim to broach and so Ross was completely thrown by it. The heat in his chest changed suddenly to tightness, and he had a momentary flash of white light and heat and pain. 

‘Yes.’ he said. ‘I wore it with my dog tags the whole time right up until the ambush. It’s pretty beaten up, but Rose seemed to think that you wouldn’t mind that.’ He shrugged. ‘But if you want I could get it cleaned up.’

‘No.’ Jim said, still staring at the ring. ‘It’s perfect just the way it is.’ His eyes locked with Ross’. ‘She’s right. It wouldn’t be what it is if you cleaned it up and made it all shiny. It would be a lie and it wouldn’t be what I love so much.’ 

‘Even though it got blown up and scratched and dented?’ Ross asked, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice.

‘Because it got blown up and scratched and dented.’ Jim said. ‘I don’t care what it looks like. I care that I have it at all. I care that it’s right here with me now and I can see it and touch it.’ He sat up and Ross watched as Jim moved forward until he was kneeling over him.

Jim’s eyes were burning. It was almost too much for Ross to look at him and see what he’d been dreaming of and been dreading since that fateful night when he’d chased a blond shadow through a half-lit room, music thumping in time with his heartbeat. 

‘I love you, Ross.’ he said, and voice pitched low and deep. He placed on hand on Ross’ neck, thumb tracing the line of Ross’ jaw. ‘I don’t care how broken you think you are, or how fucked up you think your head is. To me you always have been and always will be perfect.’ Jim placed his other hand over Ross’ heart and Ross felt his breath catch at that simple gesture. ‘This is all I want from you.’ The hand moved up Ross’ face, the tip of Jim’s forefinger tracing down the scar on his face. To Ross, it felt like a line of fire, matching the burning in Jim’s blue-green eyes. Then Jim smiled, a little wicked thing and the hand on Ross’ chest was suddenly a lot lower. ‘Well, maybe this as well.’

‘That you can have.’ Ross said in reply and Jim leaned in closer. Their faces were inches apart and Ross let out an involuntary moan as Jim’s hand tightened on him. He was getting very turned on by this, the sudden heat in Jim’s eyes and the almost predatory stance he’d taken over him. 

‘Can I?’ Jim murmured, and his warm breath ghosted over Ross’ mouth, making him shiver. ‘Because I will never share you. I want all of you to be mine.’ There was something in his voice, that possessive tone that Ross had heard the night of the Mrs Poldark debacle when Jim had shut Warleggan down with those beautifully chosen words, executed with that perfect icy neutrality. It went straight to his head and his cock, and he inhaled sharply. Jim’s answering smile left Ross in no doubt to the fact that he could see the effect his words had had. ‘I want to know you belong to me, your heart, your cock, everything. Say it, Ross.’ Ross took a shuddering breath. He couldn’t look away from him. 

‘I am yours.’ he almost whispered. ‘Only yours.’ His breath was quickening, cock hardening under Jim’s hand. ‘You can do what you want to me.’ Jim moved closer and braced himself on one hand against the sofa arm, lips almost but not quite brushing Ross’ mouth. 

‘Can I fuck you?’ he breathed and Ross heard himself whimper at that. ‘Can I make you take my cock until you scream?’ His tongue flicked gently along Ross’ lower lip. ‘I want to see you lose it and come all over me.’ Ross dug his fingers into the sofa, arching up involuntarily against Jim.

‘Yes.’ he replied. ‘Please, Jim.’ He could feel how hard Jim was now, and pushed up against him. Jim made a soft growling noise and then he moved and closed the space between them, mouth on Ross’, tongue pressing against his lips until Ross relented and opened his mouth, moaning at the lazy drag of Jim’s tongue against his own. He felt like his body was going into overdrive already, and it was strange because they had barely begun. Jim kept the rhythm of their kiss slow and languid, the hand on Ross’ face anchoring him to Jim. He was still holding his weight off Ross, and it was maddening, making Ross want to arch up shamelessly against him. His hand was equally gentle, barely moving but it was enough to make Ross’ head spin. 

It was only after Jim had let his tongue explore every inch of Ross’ open mouth that he pulled back. His eyes were blazing now, and Ross felt like he was drowning in them. He moved off Ross, and stood at the side of the sofa. Ross watched him, eyes dropping automatically to the bulge in his jeans. Most times they did this, he was stupidly turned on, but tonight was different somehow. Everything around him seemed to be out of focus except for Jim. 

‘Wait here.’ he said, voice rough and commanding and Ross caught his breath at the sudden rush that went through him. He did as instructed, still lying on the sofa as Jim disappeared upstairs, his footsteps indistinct in Ross’ ears. He had no idea how long Jim was gone, but he could hardly stand it. The relief as he heard Jim come back downstairs was almost overwhelming. Jim came back into his line of sight and he was shirtless now, wearing only his jeans, barefoot and gorgeous. It made Ross lose his breath completely, panting at the sight of him and at the tube of lube in his right hand. 

‘Get up.’ he said, and the tone of command was too much. Ross moaned loudly at it, barely able to move. Jim’s eyes narrowed at him and Ross bit his lip to keep from making any more noise. ‘I said, get up.’ This time the tone was almost harsh and it narrowed Ross’ focus right down to the man in front of him. He almost fell off the sofa in his hurry to obey and stood in front of Jim, waiting. Jim looked him up and down. ‘Strip.’ he said and Ross rushed to pull his t-shirt off. ‘No, slowly.’ Ross swallowed noisily, mouth dry with excitement and anticipation. He stilled his hands and then started to move again, deliberately drawing every movement out. When he’d pulled his shirt off, he dropped it to the floor. ‘Your jeans too.’ Jim said. ‘I want you naked and on your knees.’ 

‘Oh God.’ Ross said. It just slipped out and he was shocked at the breathless words that came from his own mouth. 

‘Quiet, Poldark.’ Jim said and it was like an instant shock to his brain. Ross shut his mouth, and then took off his jeans. The only thing between him and the air now was the thin cotton of his briefs. He felt like he was impossibly hard and watched as Jim’s eyes moved over him slowly. ‘Those too.’ 

Ross dropped his briefs, stepping out of them and standing to look at Jim. He could hear himself panting now, short and sharp, and Jim’s eyes gleamed with approval.

‘Good boy.’ He said and took the two steps needed to stand in front of Ross. He reached up, placing his hand in that spot once again, right over Ross’ heart. ‘Who does this belong to?’

‘You.’ Ross breathed. He was sweating now, feeling rivulets of it running down his spine. The cool air of the living room was on his skin and the wetness at the head of his cock. Jim looked down at it, hard and standing proud away from his body. Ross shuddered as his hand came to rest around it. 

‘And this?’ Jim asked, his voice so very soft, but with that hint of steel running through it. ‘Who does this belong to?’ 

‘You.’ Ross could hardly choke the word out. The hand on his cock was mesmerising him, blocking everything else out. Then it was gone and he whined pathetically at the loss. Jim smiled at him, but now it was predatory, feral. He moved around to stand behind Ross, and then there was the click of the lube being opened. Ross bit the insides of his cheeks, desperately trying to control himself. Then Jim chucked the tube on the sofa and put his one hand on Ross’ hip, holding him steady. Ross hissed at the first cold touch of Jim’s fingers and then he threw his head back and moaned as they slid inside him, the burn of the unexpected stretch making it almost unbearably good. 

‘And this?’ Jim’s voice was almost unrecognisable. ‘Who owns this?’

‘You do.’ Ross closed his eyes, trying so very hard to control the incredible heat pulsing through him. ‘Please…’

‘Please what?’ Jim’s fingers moved steadily, just hard enough to tease. ‘You have to tell me what you want, Ross.’ There was a twist of the fingers and then Ross felt them hit the perfect place and he almost screamed. ‘What do you want?’

‘You.’ he moaned. ‘I want you.’

‘Not good enough.’ Jim took his fingers out and Ross whined. ‘Now tell me what you want.’ He moved back around to stand in front of Ross, one hand on his own cock, stroking it through his jeans. Ross’ eyes locked on his hand, the steady rhythm mesmerising. ‘Do you want this?’

‘Yes.’ Ross couldn’t look away. 

‘You want me to fuck you with it?’ Jim’s hand stilled and he smiled at the disappointment on Ross’ face. 

‘Yes.’ Ross lifted his eyes and saw the smirk on Jim’s face. 

‘Get on your knees.’ He ordered and Ross almost fell to them in his rush. He sat back on his heels, watching as Jim walked to wards him. When he was right in front of Ross, Jim reached down and took Ross’ chin in his hand, tilting his head up so the Ross could look at him. ‘Take it out then.’ Ross took a deep breath and lifted his hands to obey. His hands were shaking so badly that he could barely unbutton Jim’s jeans, but then they were open and Ross saw that in between the tine Jim had gone upstairs and the time he’d come back, he’d somehow managed to lose his underwear. Instead, Jim’s cock was right there in front of him, the dark gold curls leading up into the line of hair that ran up his stomach and onto his chest. He tugged on Jim’s jeans, getting them down far enough, and then felt Jim’s fingers dragging through his hair. ‘So good.’ He murmured and Ross felt a thrill go through him at the praise. ‘Open your mouth for me.’ 

Ross did, and then Jim moved forward, cock sliding along Ross’ bottom lip, and then it was inside his mouth, the tang of salt on his tongue making all his senses fire at once. He closed his mouth around it and Jim’s breathing hitched.

‘Yes, like that. Slow and deep.’ His hips started to move and Ross relaxed, letting Jim fuck his mouth. ‘Jesus Ross, you are so fucking gorgeous like this.’ He looked up and saw Jim watching him and their eyes locked. Ross let his tongue move against the head of Jim’s cock, tracing every line of it from the delicate slit at the top to the vein running underneath. He was in heaven, the feeling of Jim’s cock in his mouth almost meditative. Above him, Jim was remarkably calm, the only sign of the intensity of what he was feeling being his laboured breathing. ‘Keep going.’ The fingers in Ross’ hair tightened and he keened at the flood of pleasure it brought. He knew that he would happily sit like this forever, naked and hard in front of Jim, letting him use him however he wanted. It must have shown on his face because Jim’s expression suddenly changed.

‘Get off.’ he ordered and Ross let his cock slide out of his mouth. He could barely breathe now, and he looked up questioningly. Jim held out both hands to him, and Ross took them, his heart swelling with love at the gesture. He held on as Jim walked them backwards to the sofa, then sat down after pushing his jeans own to mid-thigh. He reached for the lube and handed it to Ross, who didn’t need any instruction to know what to do. He put some in his palm and reached for Jim’s cock, slicking it up and then moving to straddle him, knees either side of Jim and Jim’s hands on his hips to hold him steady. 

‘Like this?’ he asked, and Jim nodded.

‘Yes. Now come down gently. I want you to feel every inch of me going in.’ he said and Ross moaned again. He reached for the back of the sofa, bracing himself and lowering until he felt the head of Jim’s cock against him. Ross pressed down and felt the first part start to slip inside. He caught his breath and then Jim’s hands stroked down his sides in soothing movements, the fingers of his left hand tracing the branches of the tattoo on Ross’ side. ‘It’s okay baby.’ he said, and his hand moved back to Ross’ face, warm and comforting. ‘I’ve got you.’ The gentleness of his voice and the words he spoke did Ross in, and he dropped down, impaling himself in one hard movement. It hurt for one blinding moment and Ross cried out, barely able to hold anything in anymore. Jim hissed and threw his head back against the sofa, but he didn’t let Ross look away. 

They waited until, Ross was starting to breathe again and then Jim thrust up gently and that single stroke hit Ross perfectly, making it fell like there was lighting going up his spine.

‘Move.’ he said, and Ross did as he was told and started to rock, gently at first then harder as he found his rhythm. Jim had never fucked him like this before, and it felt strange but also so very good. 

‘Oh.’ It came out, an involuntary exclamation as Jim shifted position, making Ross lean back a little, and then it was blindingly good. 

‘That’s it baby.’ Jim was now moaning along with him now, one hand on Ross’ hip gripping tightly and the other moving from his face to his hair. ‘Ride me.’ he panted loudly. ‘Fuck, you feel so good…so tight around me.’ Ross keened and moved faster, the pleasure building and Jim’s fingers burned marks into his skin. Ross was lost. He’d never believed it could feel like this. But it was also different. Jim filled every sense he possessed, and he couldn’t focus on anything else around him. And then the strangest thing happened.

At first, Ross wasn’t quite sure what was going on, He knew that he was close to the edge, but then it was like it started to drift away from him. Every sense was suddenly magnified. He could see every bit of stubble along Jim’s jawline, see the tiny gold flecks around his irises, smell the pheromones pouring out of his skin. And as these things came into sharp relief, the background faded away and with it went every shred of doubt and uncertainty. It was the most wonderful thing he’d ever experienced, a feeling of complete and utter calm as he came down to nothing but the feel of Jim moving inside him.

And then it hit, like a bolt of lightning, and Ross came so hard he could hear nothing but the blood rushing in his ears. He looked down at Jim, almost insensible underneath him, head back and mouth opened as he screamed along with Ross, bucking up into him desperately. It took only a moment and then Ross watched Jim come, eyes closed and a look of perfect ecstasy on his face. 

Ross fell forward into Jim’s strong arms, and let the wave take him and carry him down into darkness.

For a moment Jim was terrified that he’d done something to knock Ross out by pushing him too far. It was the most ridiculous thought, and it came out of nowhere, but then Ross moaned, and relief flooded Jim’s body. 

‘Hey.’ he said, giving Ross a gentle poke in the ribs. ‘Ross?’ Ross didn’t lift his head from where it had dropped to Jim’s shoulder after he’d come. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ Ross mumbled, but his voice was thick, almost slurred, like he’d been drinking.

‘You don’t sound fine.’ Concerned now, Jim reached up, pushing Ross back so he could get a look at him. What he saw surprised him. Ross’ pupils were huge, the hazel almost indistinguishable. Not only that, but he was starting to shake. ‘Fuck, Ross. Can you get up?’ 

‘I don’t know.’ Ross said, and Jim frowned at his apparent inability to focus on him. ‘I feel kind of heavy.’ Jim’s instincts immediately kicked in. 

‘That’s all right.’ he said, keeping his voice soothing. ‘I just need you to get off of me.’ He gave Ross a reassuring smile. ‘And you are a little heavy.’ He got hold of Ross and managed to lift him off, pulling out and then gently easing Ross back down so he could lie back on the sofa. ‘Hang on a second, and then we‘ll get you upstairs.’ He got up and pulled his jeans up, mindless of the mess, and then considered the situation. Eventually he decided the best thing to do was carry Ross, so he leaned over and got hold of him. Ross was still breathing erratically and was now also shivering as if he was freezing, even though his skin felt hot to the touch. He managed to focus on Jim for a few seconds.

‘I feel really fucking weird.’ he said.

‘Think you can get up?’ Jim asked. Ross shook his head and grimaced as if that made him feel worse.

‘I feel like I’ve been doing field trials.’ he replied.

‘Right.’ Jim said, ‘I’m taking you up. Just don’t thrash around, I don’t want to drop you.’ He leaned down, taking the weight of Ross’ body across his shoulder and lifting him from the sofa. Ross went without complaint, and Jim shifted him so that he was balanced. Ross was heavy, but Jim was used to field gun training and the weight wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him. He went to the staircase, careful not to bang Ross’ head against the wall and carried him up, moving steadily so as not to jostle him. Once he got to the room, Jim eased Ross down onto the bed and then stood up. Ross was shivering so he wrestled the duvet down around him and then covered him up. He was about to go back downstairs when Ross’ hand shot out and caught his wrist.

‘Don’t go.’ he said, and there was a plaintive note in his voice that was like an arrow though Jim’s heart. ‘Stay with me.’ Jim was torn between wanting to go and clean up (as tolerant as Rose was, he doubted she would appreciate semen stains on the sofa) and staying with Ross. But then he looked down into the hazel eyes which were looking at him pleadingly and his heart won out. 

‘Okay.’ he said, getting onto the bed with Ross. ‘I’ll stay.’ He moved so he was under the duvet with him and then Ross was all over him, arms tight around him. Jim moved so he was comfortable, and then lay down with Ross’ head on his shoulder. He breathed in deeply, taking in the distinctive earthy scent of Ross’ skin, and let his fingers draw idle patterns over his skin. It wasn’t too long before Ross' breathing finally evened out and he fell asleep. Jim looked down at him, the lamplight illuminating the planes of Ross’ face and the thick dark lashes shading his cheek. Jim ran his thumb along the stubble at his jaw, the scratchiness pleasing to his sense of touch. 

‘What’s going on with you, baby?’ he murmured, but Ross didn’t stir. 

When he was convinced that Ross was in a deep sleep, Jim eased himself from under him, tucked him in securely and went downstairs. He cleaned the marks off the sofa and retrieved the lube from where it had disappeared down the back. Once he was done, he went back upstairs and stood at the doorway for a moment, just watching Ross sleep. It scared him a little how young Ross looked. It was very easy to forget that he was the same age when he was asleep. 

Jim sighed and went into the bathroom, stripping off his soiled jeans and chucking them in the laundry basket and then took a quick shower. He came back out and went to Ross, checking the temperature of his skin. Ross wasn’t shivering anymore, but when Jim took his hand away he whimpered softly in his sleep, and Jim felt the disquiet come back. He had no doubt that something very strange had passed between them, but he’d also noticed how clingy and submissive Ross had been when Jim started taking him to bed to take him away from himself. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out something was going on. And what had happened tonight had just confirmed it for him. 

He got back into the bed, and Ross instantly moved back into him, arms reaching for Jim even in his sleep. Jim let Ross wrap himself around him and settled in to sleep.


	11. C'est la Mort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from C'est La Mort by the Civil Wars, which is in my opinion one of the most beautiful love songs ever, and which I think fits the boys perfectly.
> 
> So another crazy ride comes to an end. A huge thank you to the crew for the kudos and comments. As always you guys make this for me.

Jim sat on the sofa with Port in his lap and looked on at Ross sitting on the floor of the living room. He was sitting and playing with Starboard. The little Schipperke had taken a distinct liking to him and Jim found it endlessly entertaining to watch them playing. Ross had told him that he’d never had a dog, although most of his extended family did, and that he’d always wanted one. He certainly seemed to be making up for lost time.

Jim smiled as Ross laughed and pushed Starboard away from him. Starboard gave him a mock growl and went into a play bow before jumping on him. He had noticed that Ross was so much better, relaxed and not half as stressed as he had been a few days before their adventure on the sofa. The fact that Jim was going back to the Dragon the next day hadn’t completely dented his mood either, although it didn’t escape Jim’s notice that Ross had been keeping closer to him than usual. He had sat on the bed and watched Jim pack his duffle bag with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes, something that had struck Jim as quite funny as Ross had had both dogs sitting with him at the time and the three pairs of sad eyes watching him had set off the giggles, but other than that he seemed to be dealing with the impending separation quite well.

Jim reached up and his hand went to the ring around his neck. He was extremely touched by the fact that Ross had given it to him and the way in which it had been done, but at the same time he knew that it wasn’t something that had been given lightly and that made him think seriously about the two of them. He knew he was in love and now he knew that so was Ross, but the future and what that meant for them was something he’d been giving thought to the last two weeks. There was a touch on his foot, and he looked down to see Ross lying on his back, looking at him from upside down.

‘Hey up there.’ he said, beautiful smile in place and Jim smiled back and shoved him with his foot.

‘What?’ he asked and Ross rolled over onto his stomach and then got to his knees and finally his feet. He was still a little slow, but Jim’s critical eye noted that his movement was getting better every day. He flopped down on the sofa next to Jim and Jim automatically lifted one arm so Ross could drape across him, head in his lap. He stroked through the thick dark hair with one hand, and Ross took the other, playing with it. 

‘It’s tomorrow.’ Ross said and his voice was a little flat, but when he looked up at Jim, his hazel eyes were calm. ‘You’re leaving tomorrow.’ 

‘I am.’ Jim replied. ‘You going to be okay?’

‘Yes.’ Ross said. ‘I’m not going to like it and I’m going to miss you like buggery, but I’m going to be okay.’ He heaved a sigh and kissed Jim’s palm. ‘And it’s only for two months. I should be able to hold on.’

‘And it’s not like before.’ Jim said. ‘We can email and talk over Skype as much as you want to.’ Ross smiled, a slightly more suggestive one than before.

‘I can think of other things to do with Skype.’ he said and Jim raised his eyebrows in mock shock.

‘Captain Poldark.’ he said. ‘I seriously hope you aren’t suggesting that you want to watch me engage in questionable activities aboard one of Her Majesty’s warships.’ 

‘If I can jerk off for you in your mother’s house, you can do it on the Dragon.’ Ross countered. 

‘Fair enough.’ Jim said and then further wrecked the moment by rubbing his hand over Ross’ face, making him snort and try to push him off. There was a sustained moment of horribly undignified play fighting before they ended up on the floor, Jim underneath Ross. Ross used his longer body to pin him there, while Jim struggled to throw him off. 

‘Bastard.’ he said, words almost choked off by giggles. ‘Get the fuck off me.’

‘No.’ Ross was not ashamed to admit that he was giggling just as hard. He managed to pin Jim’s wrists to the floor, and then leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. Jim glared at him, but he was currently helpless and his look of indignation was so adorable that Ross couldn’t help smiling at him. ‘Christ, you are so fucking cute.’

‘You make me sound like a fucking puppy.’ Jim said. He squirmed a little and Ross tightened his grip on him and then kissed the nose again. 

‘You know that I thought that the first time I saw you.’ he said and Jim stopped struggling.

‘That I was a puppy?’ he asked, looking confused.

‘No, you tosser.’ Ross laughed. ‘That you were the cutest fucking thing I’d ever seen.’ He sighed happily and sat back on Jim, letting his hands go. ‘You turned my fucking head that night. You still do. I have never ever been in love with someone like I am with you.’ Then he noticed the look of surprised delight on Jim’s face. ‘What? Did I say something wrong?’ Jim flexed and sat up, and Ross felt the strength in the body below him. He was now up and facing Ross, one hand out behind him to steady himself. 

‘No.’ he said. ‘No, that was perfect.’ His eyes locked on Ross’ and as he looked into them, Ross felt it, that wonderful feeling of drowning in those eyes that shone like tropical seawater on a sunny day. 

‘I love you.’ he said and Jim’s dimples flashed at him.

‘I love you.’ he replied and then Ross leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft and gentle and all the things that they felt tied up in one moment. 

‘Oh for God’s sake.’ They broke apart to see Rose standing at the front door where she’d just come in looking at them with a fond smile on her face. ‘You two are going to give me bloody diabetes, you’re so sweet together.’ She hung up her coat and went into the kitchen, the dogs at her heels. Jim looked back at Ross.

‘We’re going to be okay.’ he said.

‘I know.’ Ross replied.

**********

The next morning, Jim got up and showered, then got dressed. He was taking his car back to Portsmouth and so Rose and Ross had both decided that it would be best for him to just go by himself. 

Ross lay in bed and watched him. He was flat on his side, head under his arm and the strange perspective heightened the surreal feel of the moment. Jim was brisk, checking his bag and then coming over to sit at the edge of the bed. He stroked through Ross’ hair and Ross looked up at him. Jim looked into his dark eyes and they simply sat in the moment, neither one wanting to say anything. Eventually Ross sat up, the duvet falling away from his naked body and reached for Jim, kissing him once. It was deep and intimate and seemed to last forever. When they finally separated, there was still only silence between them, all the things they wanted to say being transmitted through the look they shared. Then Jim stood up, and moved away, his fingers sliding through Ross’ as he picked up the bag, shouldered it and left the room. 

Ross watched him go and then lay back down as he heard him walk down the stairs and out the front door.


End file.
